


31 Day OTP Challenge (SpaMano)

by TheGraveyardChild



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-03 19:43:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 34,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8727760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGraveyardChild/pseuds/TheGraveyardChild
Summary: This is my 31-day OTP challenge for SpaMano. Each day in December, I will post a new chapter! It focuses on the college life of the characters Antonio and Lovino from Hetalia. Enjoy!(Technically it started yesterday, but I failed to post it on Ao3)





	1. Chapter 00: Author's Note

**A/N//: Dear readers,**

**PLEASE READ THIS NOTE TO THE END. IT MIGHT HELP CLEAR CONFUSION FOR THE FIC TO COME.**

**Thank you for clicking on this writing challenge for the ship SpaMano! This is my first writing challenge, but not my first SpaMano FanFiction. This one will actually have an ending, though. I won't put off completing it like I tend to do. (Yes, I know, I'm lazy).**

**Alright. With that in mind, let me tell you a little bit about this challenge.**

**First off, I am NOT accepting suggestions for new chapters. I will already have everything ready for posting when I post the first chapter. I'm a cheater-cheater pumpkin-eater, I understand. I'm not following the rules of such a challenge, but if you want an end (for once) then I must cheat.**

**Second, this will have some sort of a plot line. All of the chapters are going to be connected in some way, shape, or form. It will also be written in Lovino's point of view because I love writing as him. He's so angsty. ;D**

**Third, there will be time gaps throughout the story, so make sure you pay attention to the dates at the top. Some will be as small as a few days and some as large as several months. I have a lot of time to cover in 31 chapters. (Yes. 31 days. Because it is December, you will get 31 chapters.) In order to cover everything I intend to cover, I will be skipping a lot on the timeline. Also. Weather in whatever area you are in is irrelevant. I'm going on real time as far as days, but yeah. No. Weather is irrelevant. Cause. Yeah. I'm not God.**

**That being said, I hope you enjoy this (sort of a?) fic.**

**Thanks so much for reading, and please comment as you go! I love comments. I like to read them. A lot. Cause I'm a vain little shit. <3**

**Happy reading.**

**TheGraveyardChild (Gravey)**


	2. Chapter 01: Introductions

**Chapter 1: Introductions**

**Monday, August 10, 2015**

They had invaded. The Bad Touch Trio had invaded everything that was his life, and Lovino was certain there was no getting rid of them. Not for at least another year. They wouldn't leave even if he tried his hardest to push them out. There was no getting away. His life, which had started to look up for once, took a detour for hell. He had a one-way ticket. There was no getting off this train. There were no other stops. He was in motion, and there was no turning back.

Like any other, his day started out with his brother's incessant hugging and squealing. Feliciano wanted to spend the remaining days he had with his brother before the first semester of his junior year of college began to his best ability, and that meant waking him up at the crack of dawn's ass. Feliciano had done just that morning, but at this point, Lovino didn't even attempt to yell at his always-too-excited brother. There was no point. It was the last day it would happen for a long, long time - at least Lovino hoped. He had gotten out of bed before nine in the morning, showered, dressed, and ate breakfast. It was all part of his routine. The only change: He was taking a moving truck three hours away to his college campus town. They had to start packing. Feliciano, much to his chagrin, helped him pack all of the things he'd needed for his college life. Grandpa helped, too. He preferred Augustus Vargas over his fumbling idiot of a brother. They cleared out his room and packed everything: bed, dresser, desk, bookshelves, clothes, novels, easels, supplies. Everything. Grandpa had even gotten him a two-seater, dark brown couch and coffee table for his living room. His roommate, some other kid whose name started with a C or something, was bringing the kitchen table and chairs. Loving had the bathroom supplies while the other had kitchen utensils. The had spoken briefly through email about who would bring what, but that's all that Lovino had allowed. He had no intentions of befriending this bastard.

Sure, he should have been grateful. This kid had allowed him to be his housemate. Usually, transfer students were required to stay in small, cramped dorms that resided on campus, but with the right about of charisma and money, they had managed to get Lovino into a flat with one other person. He preferred it to the small rooms that were the dorms. This way, he could hide and interact with as few people as possible. He wanted to stay as far away from people as possible. They were loud. Obnoxious. Nosy. They anyways threw parties that involved way too much alcohol. He wanted none of it. The other person in the house was a junior. Lovino was told that their majors were both in the realm of fine arts. He hoped he and his roommate would at least get along. Sure, he wasn't looking for a friend, but if they couldn't agree on things, they'd never make ends meet in the house. Lovino would ultimately become annoyed with his roommate's mere presence. He was used to living his life in such a manner, but in this case, there was no ignoring his roommate. They shared a house. He could hide in his room, but one of them, as they had also agreed, had to cook the meals each night during the week. His soon to be roommate had also requested that they have meals together in order to get to know each other better. Lovino had grudgingly obliged.

By the time everything was packed and ready, Lovino was fed up with his family. Feliciano was crying again. Grandpa was giving him too tight of hugs.

"I'm not dying. I'm just going away to college. I'm going to be three hours away. Get off of me, bastards," Lovino grumbled, then added, "and no Feliciano, you are not allowed to visit me. Now get off."

Grandpa and Feliciano released him.

"I'm proud of you Lovino. When I was younger, I didn't have this opportunity," Augustus said. "I went to the military to serve my country. You make me a very proud man and grandfather."

Lovino squirmed under his praise. He was used to watching his younger brother get it. He hasn't often been on the receiving end. He was more often reprimanded for his poor temper and lack of care for his younger brother.

"Thanks, Grandpa..." Lovino mumbled awkwardly. "Can we go now? I don't want to be late and God only knows what my roommate is doing to that house..."

God and three idiot bastards...

The trip seemed to breeze by. There was so much on Lovino's mind. His thoughts were centered around his major. Who would be in his art classes? Would he be better or worse than them? Would he even compare? What if they didn't like his art? These thoughts raced through his brain. Lovino, despite his very abrasive nature and personality, was self-conscious of little things such as the way others viewed him. He had always told himself that their opinions didn't matter, that they were all bastards, but when it came to his art, he was particularly terrified. It was an extension of himself, his art. If they didn't like it, would his classmates ultimately reject him as well? Lovino didn't have many friends, but he also preferred to be the person doing the shunning. He didn't like being ignored by others. He felt boxed away. If he was the one in control then those anxieties would disappear.

Grandpa stopped outside of the house; he had driven the moving truck with all of Lovino's belongings. Lovino climbed from the passenger's side and stared at the building that would be his home for the next two semesters.

It was small, but it would have to make do. It was a two story, two bedroom house. It had one full bathroom and one half-bath. A washer and dryer resided somewhere in the building. There were two separate offices, a kitchen, and a living room. It would do. It was all the college would provide him. Only one person had offered to take him as their roommate.

Lovino sighed and took up his duffel bag from the cab of the moving truck. It held all of the things he'd need immediately when moving into this place. Toiletries, a few changes of clothes, pajamas, a sketchbook, and pencil. He walked with it to the front door of the house. He hesitantly raised his hand to knock while Grandpa opened the truck to start unloading. He then thought otherwise. Why the hell would he knock? He lived there.

Lovino opened the front door and stepped inside. Be immediately wished he had done otherwise. There were three people standing in his living room. Three men. One was blond with blue eyes. The other had stark white hair, red eyes, and extremely pale skin. He also had a yellow bird on his shoulder, an oddity to the Italian. The final one was tanner than the other two. He had curly, brown hair, but he couldn't see his eyes. All three were trying to hang a framed poster upon the wall. A framed poster of a tomato. Lovino groaned inwardly and immediately dropped his bags. He popped his hip and rested his hand upon it. A scowl formed on his lips.

"First off, who the fuck are you three, and which one of you bastards actually lives here. Second, what the hell are you doing hanging a damned poster of a fucking tomato on my wall?"

All three sets of eyes turned to him, but none made any move to respond. Grandpa walked in behind Lovino and cuffed him over the back of the head.

"Watch your manners and your language, young man," Augustus chastised. "I'm sorry about my grandson. He's a bit of an ass sometimes."

"Shut up," Lovino snapped, swiftly receiving another cuff over the head.

"I'm Augustus, and this is Lovino. I'd like to know who my grandson's roommate is. Put an old man at ease, won't you?"

The man with the tanned skin and the curly hair stepped forward and smiled. He held out a hand to Grandpa while he spoke. Grandpa took it happily. "I'm Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. I'll be rooming with your grandson."

"I have a name, bastard," Lovino snapped. He received another cuff for that one.

"Well, I hope you two will become friends," Augustus said. "He's a little mean at first, but he's really kind once you get to know him."

"I'm sure I will," Antonio replied.

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here, dammit," Lovino mumbled.

"Lovino, give me sass one more time, and you'll have a lump the size my fist on the back of your head," Grandpa said in that light, deathly serious tone of his.

The Italian rolled his eyes and stalked across the room to lean against a wall. He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed gently. This was embarrassing. His grandfather was treating him like a child. He was eighteen years old, and nothing had changed. He was still a little kid in his grandfather's eyes.

"So. Can I steal your friends to help me unload, Antonio?" Augustus asked.

It looked to Lovino like the blonde and the albino were about to protest, but Antonio answered for them. "But of course. Gilbert and Francis would love to help."

"Alright, well, follow me, boys!" Augustus said, walking out the door with Francis and Gilbert.

"So, uh," the Spaniard said awkwardly. "You don't like the tomato poster?"

"I thought I made my opinion clear when I walked in the door," Lovino said, pushing himself off of the wall. He crossed back to the door and grabbed his bags. "Where is my room?"

"Upstairs. I'll show you," Antonio said, starting up the stairs that were nearby.

The pair walked through the house in a tense silence. From what he could see, the house was sparsely decorated. Antonio had just moved in as well it seemed. That meant he could stop him from decorating the rest of the house with posters like the one he had already tried to hang. They reached Lovino's room quickly. It was a decently sized room, just a little bit bigger than the one he shared with Feliciano at home. It would do nicely.

"Thanks, I guess," he said, placing his bags on the ground.

"Sí, no problem, Lovino," Antonio replied with a small laugh. He ran his hand through his hair. "The bathroom is the first door on the left of the hall. My room is right across from yours. Just let me know if you need anything."

"We're getting take out tonight. I'm not cooking. And during dinner, we're going to set down some ground rules."

"Alright. I can handle that. Is there anywhere specific you want to get food from?"

"Like hell, if I know what the fuck is around here," the Italian said with a snort. "You pick. Just don't pick McDonald's or some cheap shit like that."

Lovino brushed past him and started to get the truck unloaded with his grandfather.

\---

They had agreed on Panda Express. It was by no means gourmet Chinese, but it was enough to settle Lovino's rumbling stomach.

Grandpa had left along with the Spanish bastard's friends about an hour earlier. It was now just Antonio and Lovino sitting at the kitchen table, eating their food. They had a bit of silence at first, but Lovino decided it was about damn time to lay the rules out on the table.

"I have a few rules I'd appreciate that you follow when I'm around," the Italian said, stabbing his plastic fork into his piece of orange chicken.

"Shoot," Antonio replied.

"First off, stay the fuck out of my room and out of my things."

"Easy enough."

"Second, clean up after yourself. If you leave shit lying around for more than a week at a time, I'm going to collect shit up and throw it in the dumpster out back." In his youth, Lovino had been a messy person. It had all changed when he found a piece of two-year-old cheese sitting under the bed. It was the source of the disgusting smell that had haunted his and Feliciano's room for two years. Ever since then, he was meticulous with cleaning.

The Spaniard swallowed. "Understood."

"Third, if you want to have a party, tell me a week in advance so I can go to Grandpa's."

"Agreed."

"That's it."

"Can I add a rule of mine own, Lovino?"

"You already have the family dinners every night. What else could you want?"

"At least once a week I'd like us to hang out. It'd be nice to get to know each other a bit more. I would have to live with someone who avoids me constantly. Life would get lonely, ya know?"

Lovino was going to protest. He didn't want to be around this bastard more than he had to. He already had to spend his dinners with him. Now this bastard wanted to hang out with him once a week? He was seriously asking a lot. "Fine, but you don't always get to pick what we do. If you're going to torture me, I get a little bit of a say in what we do."

"That's completely fine, Lovi!"

"Don't call me that."

"Lo Siento, Lovino."

"Shut up."

**A/N//: Because this is the first chapter, it is probably going to be the longest. Others might be longer, but this needed more meat to it to get some of the big things out of the way. Like the fact that this is a college AU. I want to throw little things in there, some headcanons and such. So yeah. Might see some turtles or something. I don't know.**


	3. Chapter 02: Picnicking

**Chapter 02: Picnicking  
**

**Friday, August 14, 2015**

Lovino didn't understand why the hell he was doing this. He didn't understand why the hell he was trekking into a public park with this stupid bastard. He didn't understand what shred of sanity had led him to agree to go on a picnic with the most annoying boy from the university he attended. It was his annoying fucking roommate.

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. That was who he was going on a picnic with. He was a stupid, Spanish bastard who wouldn't leave Lovino alone from the moment they met. He had also agreed to hang out with him at least once a week. This was their first day to hang out, and Lovino, out of the kindness of his heart, allowed the bastard to pick first.

They met three days earlier when Lovino moved into the flat that they now shared. He hated every moment that he had to be around the bastard. He was loud and obnoxious. He also sang in the shower. To Taylor Swift music. He was God fucking awful. He sang off key and was in there for at least a half hour at a time. Lovino was just happy they didn't have to pay the water bill. He would have forced the bastard out of there after five minutes if they had to. It would save him from his terrible singing, too. The bastard was also up until all hours of the night doing God knows what in his bedroom. And then he still managed to get out of bed by nine a.m. He confused the fuck out of the Italian who went to bed by eleven and got up by ten. He could at least cook, much to Lovino's happiness. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if Antonio cooked like an inexperienced idiot. Lovino's world was surrounded by three things: art, sleep, and food. If one of the three was lacking, his feng shui would be all out of wack.

The pair now walked through the park in search of a spot to sit down and have their picnic. His main problem with this choice: everyone was going to think he was gay. They were going to think he was dating this Spanish bastard or something. He didn't want that, not one fucking bit. Still, he went with the bastard. He had agreed, and he didn't want to be that jackass that went back on his word.

"This is a good enough spot, right Lovino?" Antonio asked, looking back over his shoulder at the Italian with a dopey grin.

Lovino scowled slightly. "It's good enough, I guess," he mutter. It was far enough away from some of the more prying eyes, he hoped.

"Perfect," the Spaniard said. He pulled a blanket from his backpack after setting down his girly picnic basket.

Yes. This bastard had a fucking picnic basket.

Antonio spread out the blanket and sat down. He patted the spot next to him for Lovino to sit down. Begrudgingly, Lovino sat, but he sat across from the bastard as far as possible from him. Antonio then began to unpack the basket of food. Lovino watched as he pulled out individually wrapped sandwiches, glass bottles of soda, and finally, an item he'd been craving since he had seen that poster on his living room wall.

A tomato. The bastard had pulled out a small, red, round tomato. And then he pulled out another. And another. Lovino was in love. Not with the Spanish bastard, but with the tomato, the fruit he was so passionate about. It sat in front of him, glistening in the sun.

"Do you like tomatoes, Lovino?" Antonio asked.

"Yeah, I guess they're okay..." Lovino muttered. "Why?"

"You were staring, and your eyes glazed over a bit."

"They did not! Fuck off Tomato Bastard!"

"Tomato Bastard?"

"Don't question what I fucking call you, dammit."

Antonio smiled to himself and held a sandwich out to Lovino. The Italian took it and unwrapped it slowly. He took a bite, and much to his surprise, they were just as good as the Spaniard's normal cooking. He looked at the contents of the sandwich. It looked like some sort of tomato and chicken salad. He liked it, but he had absolutely no intentions of telling the bastard. He was already too full of himself as it was.

"So, Lovino," Antonio started after a lapse of silence.

"What?" Lovino asked, swallowing a bite of his sandwich.

"What's your major?"

Lovino wrinkled his nose slightly. He wasn't expecting to actually have a conversation with this guy. Couldn't they just sit in silence? He would have much rather stared out at the world and watched the idiots in the park play their stupid sports terribly. He didn't want to talk about himself one bit. This bastard didn't need to know much more about him than he already did. Besides, what if he said something stupid. He usually did, which was the problem. Finally, he reluctantly answered. "Art."

"Do you know what field you're going to go into exactly?" Antonio asked.

"I'm not sure. I might teach it, but that's a bad idea. I like kids, but I'd probably be a bad influence on them," he said with a shrug. "I might just do art for art's sake and see what I can do from there..."

That was the most that Antonio was going to get out of him. He would never explain art's real meaning to him. That was too much to get into. That was too much information about him out there on the table for people to find out.

"Do you want your own gallery one day?" he asked.

Lovino paused. Of course, he wanted his own gallery, but that would be nearly impossible. For that, someone actually had to like his art. And he wasn't sure that would happen. Sure, he was good. He could paint some bomb ass portraits if he tried, but he felt like sometimes they were too generic. He didn't have enough of a wow factor in order for someone to grant him his own space. But he wasn't going to tell the bastard that either.

"Maybe. Not sure. It just depends on what field I go into after I get my gen eds."

Antonio nodded, and then they fell into silence. It was growing awkward. It wasn't that comfortable silence. Lovino didn't want this. He wanted to have some comfort. He didn't want to feel like some awkward taco just chilling there on a blanket in the grass. No. This was not what he had imagined this day going like. Okay. Maybe it was. But still. He couldn't _live_ with this guy if they just lapsed into silence like this.

"What's your major?" Lovino finally asked, not like he cared.

"I'm a dance major," he said, a smile lighting his tanned features.

That smile irritated Lovino. Antonio has such passion and confidence already. It was fucking irritating that he could be so sure of what he was going to do with his life. Lovino wanted to scowl, but he didn't want to be rude either. So he politely asked with as little sarcasm as possible, "Dance? You're a dance major?"

Antonio nodded enthusiastically. "Sí!"

"Uh..." He had to conversation going. What the fuck was he supposed to ask about dance? "What area exactly?" Yes, good Lovino. He had asked the right question. The Spaniard smiled again.

"I want to be an instructor as some point, but I also want to dance with the Joffrey Ballet at some point in my life. Maybe even on broadway. My singing isn't too terrible, so I could possibly make it."

Lovino wanted to laugh at the comment about his singing, but he refrained. "Isn't that a very competitive field?"  


Antonio shrugged. "Sure it is, but I'll make it. I'm a determined man."

Lovino envied the Spaniard almost immediately. If Antonio was determined to make it already, then he was far ahead of Lovino. The Italian was less than confident in his future. Lovino wanted to curse the bastard out for making him feel like shit about his future, but he refrained. He settled back on the casual conversation.

"Are there a lot of girls in your classes?"

Antonio nodded and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah. It makes partner activities very interesting. Those girls are ruthless!" Antonio explained. "I swear. I get hounded. There're three males total in the whole program and at least forty girls. I don't know what to do. They're cut-throat just to get a male partner!"

"Cutthroat?"

"Sí! And it's usually just over guys and rank and stuff. There's this one girl, Bella, in my ballet class. She sabotages any girl that gets too close to her brother."

"So she's not doing it for rank? Just over her brother?"

"No. It's just over her brother. I don't know. I guess she's protective over him or something, but I refuse to go near Ivan at this point. She's a terrifying woman."

Lovino nodded and ate a bit more of his sandwich as Antonio rambled on about his dance classes. He found it was easier to talk to the bastard when he allowed him to ramble on about himself. That was fine with Lovino. That just meant he got to talk less. If the Tomato Bastard kept this up, then living with him might just be tolerable.


	4. Chapter 03: Getting Lost

**Chapter 03: Getting Lost**

**Friday, August 14, 2015**

The sun was gradually sinking lower into the sky and tinting it an orangey color. Lovino and Antonio had long since finished their sandwiches and drinks and now sat in silence. It wasn't awkward like before. It was comfortable. Lovino had eventually caved and sat next to Antonio. It was just so the bastard would stop staring at him expectantly. They now sat on that blanket in silence. Lovino thought it might last at least a half an hour. He could possibly squeeze in a nap or just take some time to relax.

But no. That fucker couldn't just sit still. He couldn't just let a tired, full Italian relax for a few minutes. No. He was an energetic bastard like that.

"Let's go for a walk in the woods," Antonio said suddenly.

"The woods?"

"Sí."

"It's getting dark, though."

"I've got a great sense of direction in these woods. We'll be fine. Besides our phones have flashlights."

Lovino wrinkled his nose and nodded reluctantly. "If you get me eaten by a mother fucking bear, I will literally come back from the dead just to fucking kill you."

Antonio cringed slightly at the thought. "Understood."

"Good."

They stood up and packed up their bags. Lovino made Antonio carry everything. There was no way in hell he was going to carry that bastard's shit. Lovino had only brought his phone and his wallet. He didn't need anything else. No, that bastard could carry the heavy things.

The woods that surrounded the school they attended were enormous. Whoever had decided to put a university in the middle of bum fuck nowhere was a crazy idiot. The neighborhood surrounding the area was small. Aside from the students, the town consisted of no more than a thousand or so people. It was the reason he had chosen the school. Sure, the student body added quite a few people to the area during the school year, but it wasn't too bad. He had wanted a place that was secluded so he could concentrate. It was also an amazing school.

But back to the woods.

They were fucking enormous. And this bastard wanted to explore them. The area itself was lush and beautiful. There was trees and plant life everywhere he looked. He even saw a few deer from about fifty feet away. It was breathtaking, but the God damned mother fucking mosquitos were already driving him insane, and they had only been walking for a short period of time. He swatted them away as he walked behind the Spaniard. Antonio ambled on happily in front of him. He seemed completely fine walking on the uneven ground through mud and dirt. He didn't care about messing up his clothes or shoes. Lovino, on the other hand, had worn nice jeans and converse. He hadn't planned on going on a hike. He planned on being visible to the eye of a normal person. Not some dirty ass bugs flying through the air. If he had known they'd be doing this, he would have worn something else.

"Is there a point of coming through these shitty ass woods?" Lovino asked after ten minutes of their trek.

"There's this one place I'm going to take you to. I love going there as a kid."

"As a kid? You grew up here?"

"Sí. My dad's a dean at the school. It's the only reason I'm going there. I get a full ride, so."

"Lucky bastard."

"I guess. I wanted to go to Juilliard," he said, glancing up at the sky. "But my dad wouldn't allow it. He said I could major in anything I wanted if I stayed here. If I wanted to go anywhere else, I couldn't dance."

"Why wouldn't your dad let you dance?"

"He denied that any son of his would be gay. He said he wouldn't pay for me to be gay."

"You're gay?"

"Sí."

"Oh."

Well, that changed things. He didn't expect that he would be gay. He didn't expect that his flatmate would float the other way. It was a blow he was not expecting at all. It wasn't that he was a homophobe or anything. No, he didn't care who people decided to date. It just made their living situation a little more difficult... It made him want to stay away from Antonio just to avoid any sort of conflict between them. He didn't want things to become unbearably awkward with the bastard.

"You didn't tell me that."

"I'm sorry," Antonio confessed. "I didn't think to. I'm just so used to having to hide it. I didn't think it would cause problems with you. I understand if you want to move out and all."

"No," Lovino said quickly - too quickly. He sounded too desperate. He didn't want to grasp onto any straws that might not have been there. He had to think quickly. "I don't want to have to break the lease or anything. I'd lose my security deposit, and unlike you, I don't get to go here for free, you bastard."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Look..." Lovino muttered. "I'm not bothered by it, just... Don't make it into a problem, okay?"

"Yes, of course, Lovino!" That irritating smile was immediately back on the Tomato Bastard's face. It was so fucking irritating, and Lovino could do nothing about it.

The lapsed into silence again. It seemed a common occurrence with them, and once again, Lovino broke that silence.

"So... About that poster..." he muttered, stepping over a fallen log.

"What about it?"  


"I guess we can have it in the bathroom..." Lovino felt a flush creeping over his cheeks, but he couldn't place why. Why did something as stupid as a poster of a tomato make him blush? It was fucking stupid. It was probably over his obsession of tomatoes. Yeah. That had to be it.

"Does that mean we get a tomato themed bathroom?" Antonio asked, a look of utter joy and disbelief in his expression.

"Don't act so surprised, you bastard," Lovino shouted, immediately enraged. This fucking Tomato Bastard didn't need to get so excited over a fucking bathroom.

"I just find it nice is all," Antonio said with a happy shrug.

This guy was too nonchalant and fucking happy about everything. It irritated the Italian to quite an extent. It was time for a change of topic.

"Where the fuck are we anyways, bastard?"

And then he stopped. Antonio stopped dead in his tracks. His poise seemed rigid and cold, which left the Italian with a sense of dread rising in his stomach.

"Bastard, I asked you a question. Where the fuck are we?"

Antonio turned to him and scratched the back of his head, an apologetically innocent look stretching over his features. "I... Uh... Don't really know."

Lovino's stomach sank, and he immediately felt cold. They were lost.


	5. Chapter 04: Arguing/Making Up

**Chapter 03: Arguing/Making Up**

**Friday, August 13, 2015**

"What the fuck do you mean you don't know?" Lovino asked in a low voice.

"I, uh... Kinda stopped paying attention to where we were about twenty minutes ago," Antonio muttered, digging the toe of his shoe into the ground.

"We've barely been in here for half an hour!"

"Well, it's easy to get lost when you're in good company."

"Good company. Good FUCKING COMPANY?" Lovino picked up a stick from the ground and chucked it at the bastard. "How the FUCK DO YOU STOP PAYING ATTENTION IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING WOODS!"

Antonio dodged the stick narrowly which infuriated Lovino even more. He picked up another and another and another and kept throwing them. He wasn't to stab this bastard. It was getting dark and they were lost in the fucking woods with only a little amount of food. AND THEY WERE ALL FUCKING TOMATOES.

"Lovino, calm down-"

"DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN! I'M GOING TO GET EATEN BY A BEAR OR SOME SHIT!"

"Calm down!" Antonio said, grabbing hold of Lovino's wrists.

The Italian glared at him angrily. "Let go of me."

"Are you going to throw more stick at me?"

Lovino debated on lying, but rationality escaped him. "Yes. And quite frankly, you deserve it."

"I know I do, but getting mad at me won't help us get out of here," Antonio said with a calm voice. "Does your phone have reception?"

His phone. Yes. He could call the police or something. Hell, Feliciano would probably get there faster if he told him that he was lost in the woods... He pulled the device from his back pocket and audibly groaned when he saw that there was no service.

"We're in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. There is no service. We only have a few fucking tomatoes to eat. How the FUCK ARE WE SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE?"

Antonio took hold of Lovino's wrists again. "Calm down. It will be okay."

"No, it won't! We don't even know which direction we came in at. If you can't fucking tell it's fucking dark outside you fucking idiotic bastard!"

"Just calm down. We'll use one phone at a time for a flashlight. And if worst comes to worst, we'll wait it out until morning," Antonio said, that irritating calmness still in his voice.

How the fuck could he be so calm when Lovino was not? He sighed audibly and glared at the bastard. "Fine, but if it gets cold, I get the fucking blanket..."

And so they trekked under the light of Lovino's phone. They had agreed to keep Antonio's alive so that they could call Gilbert or Francis if they got reception. Even though the Italian didn't trust the other two members of the Bad Touch Trio, those two were a lot closer than Grandpa and Feliciano were. He was sure, however, that Grandpa would send out an entire squadron of police if he knew his grandson was missing.

They walked for what seemed like forever. They were going in aimless directions, trying to find something familiar to guide them to the edge of the woods. The moon was new. It was too dark to try and follow. They couldn't pinpoint which direction was north or south or east or west. They were literally stuck in the middle of nowhere. They were wandering through the woods. And then it occurred to Lovino.

"Why are we fucking wandering around? We could be going deeper into the woods for all we fucking know," he complained. Antonio turned to look at him. "We should just sit our asses down and wait until fucking morning to start moving again."

The Italian stopped and leaned against a tree, crossing his arms over his chest. He had no intentions of moving. He was tired. His feet were sore. He was covered in mosquito bites. He had no cell-phone reception. He was fucking miserable. To make matter worse, he was in the company of his annoying fucking roommate. Antonio had gotten them into this shit, and all Lovino wanted was to lock himself in his bedroom at this point. He would have much rather gotten lost with Feliciano. No. Scratch that. He would have much rather gotten lost alone. It would be terrifying to get lost alone, but at least he wouldn't have to deal with a terrified Feliciano. Or those fucking dopey grins the Spaniard seemed to give him all the fucking time.

"C'mon, Lovino," Antonio said. His features were tired, too, but Lovino didn't care. Not one bit. "I know you're upset. I am, too, but we can't just give up..."

Lovino let his gaze briefly flicker over to the older male before averting. Antonio didn't just look tired; he looked purely exhausted. With a sigh, Lovino pushed himself off of the tree he was leaning against. They might as well just keep going then. Once again the began to wander. Lovino walked behind the Spanish bastard, tripping over everything in the darkness. He hated the woods. There were so many tree roots that he couldn't see. He didn't have the immediate light of the flashlight to guide him. Antonio did. The bastard. No, he was at the mercy of the fucking forest. Fucking great.

And he was fucking hungry. He didn't want to bother Antonio, though. There was no point. They only had a few tomatoes in the basket after lunch. They needed to make those last. Lovino didn't know where their next meal was going to come from. If these tomatoes were all they were going to have for days... Lovino swallowed.

As if on cue, his stomach let out a loud gurgle. Antonio stopped in front of him quickly, and the Italian slammed into his back.

"What the fuck did you stop for, bastard?" Lovino snapped.

"You're hungry," Antonio replied innocently.

"You don't just stop- I'm what?"

"You're hungry. Lo Siento, Lovi. I wasn't paying attention. That's my fault."

He was apologizing. The bastard was apologizing to him... For not paying attention to his needs? Antonio had no reason to apologize. Lovino's hunger wasn't his problem. He should have been apologizing for getting them lost, but no. He apologized for not paying attention to the Italian. Antonio cared about his well-being, and all Lovino had been doing was giving him shit for every little thing. He frowned slightly and pursed his lips. He didn't even both correcting the bastard on calling him 'Lovi'. He was such a jackass.

"What's wrong?" Antonio asked.

"I'm sorry for being an ass..." Lovino muttered almost inaudibly.

"I can't hear you, Lovino. You're going to have to speak up." There was no sarcasm in the Spaniard's voice. He was genuine. He wasn't trying to make a fool of Lovino. He was so sincere.

"I said I was sorry for being an ass. Don't make it say it again," Lovino snapped, looking away with an irritated expression.

Antonio smiled kindly. "Just sit down and relax for a bit. Let's eat. I know you're hungry, and it will put us both in a better mood to eat a bit."

The Spaniard sat on a fallen long and set the basket down in front of him. He pulled out two tomatoes from the basket and handed one to Lovino. The Italian took it and sat down beside him. He held the fruit between his hands, his amber eyes staring at it in the darkness. Slowly he raised it to his lips and took a bit. It was sweet like a tomato should be. He smiled against the pulp and breathed out an audible sigh. Beside him, Antonio ate his own tomato just as happily.

"These are good..." Lovino muttered.

"I grew them in the back yard. I have a few plants, but they don't produce much," Antonio said, looking over to Lovino.

Lovino caught his gaze briefly and then turned away with a scowl on his face. "I didn't ask for the tomato's whole life story, bastard."

"No, Lovino," Antonio chuckled. "No, you didn't."


	6. Chapter 05: Stargazing

**Chapter 05: Stargazing**

**Saturday, August 14, 2015**

**1:00 a.m.**

Antonio had convinced Lovino to get moving again. They walked slowly this time, and he found that he wasn't tripping as much. They didn't speak; they were both too tired to try and formulate any sort of conversation. They had also come to a routine of quietly walking. Lovino was still trying to process his apology, and Antonio seemed to be doing the same. But in the silence, Lovino could hear everything. He heard every snap of a twig. He heard all of the rustling in the bushes. He heard every sound in the distance. He heard it all, and he gradually found that he was becoming unnerved. This fucking forest was creeping him the fuck out. He hadn't done any research on these woods aside from their size. He didn't look into what lived there. The woods were enormous, and any number of dangerous creatures could have lived there. There could have been lions and tigers or some shit like that. Maybe even wolves. Lovino shuddered. He just wanted to climb a tree to avoid anything that could have been lurking below on the forest floor. Antonio's sudden words, however, stopped him short.

"I think I see a clearing up ahead," he said softly.

"A clearing?" A clearing meant that they might be able to find the highway once morning came around. A sigh of relief escaped his lungs as he followed Antonio out into the small clearing. It was dark. There was no moon to illuminate the space. They only had the light of Antonio's rapidly dying phone.

"We can sit here until the sun comes up..." Antonio suggested.

Lovino shrugged. "Put out the blanket."

Antonio complied and spread out the fabric. Immediately following, he laid down on half of it. He stared up at the sky.

"You can actually see the stars out here..." The man sounded nostalgic and happy. There wasn't a trace of irritation or exhaustion evident in his tone. Lovino was sure he sounded otherwise.

Lovino sat down beside him and began to play with his shoelaces. "I guess."

"C'mon, Lovino, look at the sky. Lay down."

Stargazing is for babies, though..." he muttered. He lay down beside the bastard anyways. For some reason, his had an effect about him that drew Lovino closer. He stared up at the sky. It was a pitch black blanket, and it was filled with stars. They shone so brightly outside the blinding lights that filled the city. Lovino had grown up in a metropolitan area. He had never seen so many stars in his entire life. It was awing.

"What's your zodiac symbol?"

Lovino wrinkled his nose. This bastard always asked the strangest fucking questions. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to it, but he had a long time to. "I don't fucking know."

"When is your birthday?"

"Why does that fucking matter?"

"I can figure it out. Just tell me."

"March... seventeenth."

"You were born on St. Patrick's day?"

"I guess. I don't really pay attention to American holidays."

Antonio turned to face him. "Why is that?"

Lovino looked back to him with a sassy expression. "Why are you so fucking nosy?"

"Lo Siento, Lovino."

Lovino sighed. "I grew up in Italy, but we moved with my grandpa when I was seven. So."

"Why'd you leave Italy?"

Lovino pursed his lips. He wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to talk about this. It was a painful experience. He had spent much of his childhood living with a druggy pimp of a father who abused his mother. He and Feliciano had stayed there until his mother took her last dying breath. His grandfather had gotten custody of them not long after and took them away to live somewhere better. But he wasn't going to tell the bastard that.

"I had a rough childhood," he admitted. It was the best he could say. The bastard next of him didn't need to know anymore. "Grandpa brought my brother and me here to start over."

"You have a brother?"

Lovino groaned inwardly as a sense of existential dread washed over him. He didn't want to talk about Feliciano, either. Anytime his little brother came up, sadness followed. Everyone liked Feliciano better. Everyone thought his cute, perfect little brother was the best in the world. He was the best at art. The best at cleaning. He was the obedient one. He was nice. He was everything that Lovino was not. Or so they thought. Lovino judged himself to be just as good of an artist as his brother. He could cook better, too. He didn't want to talk about Feliciano one bit. He didn't want to think about him or his German boyfriend...

"Yeah," Lovino snapped. He had to change the subject quickly. "So. Uh. What's my zodiac symbol?"

"Oh! I believe you are a Pisces."

"And that means?"

"I don't know. I haven't looked into it before."

"Then why the fuck did you ask me, bastard?"

"I don't know. I just wanted to find out something about you."

"You're an idiot." A charming idiot, though, Lovino had to admit. He'd never tell the bastard, though. He'd never tell that bastard a lot of things. Lovino felt a pull towards this idiot. He had opened up a lot more that he usually would have to anyone. Hell, he had gone out and gotten lost in the woods. He had even apologized, which was unlike his nature. For some reason, this strange, tomato-loving bastard was different than anyone he'd met.

"Let's wish upon a star!" Antonio suddenly exclaimed.

"What?" Lovino looked at him puzzled.

"Yeah. Let's do it. I know that old kid's poem, too. It goes like this:

Starlight star, bright

The first star I tonight,

I wish I may,

I wish I might,

Have the wish I wish tonight."

Lovino looked back to the sky and focused his amber gaze onto one of the bright stars in the dark night sky. The wish ran through his mind before he could give much thought to it. He wished that he could get close enough to someone to have something, some sort of meaning. He wished that person was the Spanish bastard beside him.

"What did you wish for, Lovino?"

"I'm not telling you, bastard." No, he'd never tell. Not in a million years.

"Alright, Lovi."

And this time, for that one time when they were alone and no one could hear, he didn't correct him.


	7. Chapter 06: Holding Hands

**Chapter 06: Holding Hands**

**Saturday, August 14, 2015**

**3:00 a.m.**

Antonio's soft breaths sounded from beside Lovino. The bastard had fallen asleep not long after they had wished upon some stars. The bastard complained about having practice early that morning and managed to fall asleep on the lumpy ground. He then curled into Lovino's side and snuggled up against him. Lovino would have pushed him away, but he seemed so peaceful. He didn't want to disturb his slumber.

That, and he didn't want to hear the bastard ramble on for another few hours.

He had been thinking about all of the things that had happened that day, all of the stuff that ran through his head. He was interested in Antonio, that was the easiest thing to admit. He could not go as far as to say that he had a crush on him. No, that would be moving too quickly. The man was interesting, though. He wasn't like Feliciano. He wasn't as blatantly innocent. He was older and more experienced. He didn't look at the world as naively as Feliciano, but he was still naive as shit. He seemed too nice for his own good, but Lovino couldn't tell. Not yet. He had so much time to figure it out, though.

The sky was still pitch black as Lovino finally found hope in leaving the forest before the end of the weekend. They had been laying in the clearing for about two hours. Antonio had been asleep for at least an hour and a half when Lovino felt his phone vibrate inside of his pocket. It actually vibrated. It wasn't just a paperweight in his pocket anymore. He immediately pulled it from his jacket and looked at the screen. He had a text from Feliciano. He had a fucking text. He opened it slowly. The mere action felt so surreal to him. He had been cut off from the outside world for hours, and all of a sudden had two measly bars. He probably had them the entire time they were in that clearing, but he hadn't checked.

Lovino looked at the text. It was an image. Feliciano had sent him a picture of his cat. His fucking cat licking itself. That picture was the best thing he had seen in hours. He laughed a dry, bitter laugh to himself. Hell, he very nearly smiled. Lovino. Smiling. Yeah. That would be the day.

Lovino shook Antonio awake quickly. He was ready to get out of these damned woods. His phone was going to die soon, too, so he needed the sleeping bastards in order to call someone.

"Bastard, wake the fuck up. We have service. We have two fucking bars, and I want to go the fuck home."

"Huh...?" Antonio mumbled.

"We have service on our phones right here, and I want to go home. Get off of me and call someone to get us the fuck out of here..."

Antonio rolled away from Lovino. Almost immediately the Italian felt a rush of cold hit him. He didn't realize how warm the bastard was. He watched the Spaniard pull his phone from his pocket and squint at the brightness of the screen. He dialed a number and made a call.

"Hola," he muttered. "Sí, Francis, I know what time it is... But I'm kind of stranded in the middle of the woods with Lovino..." There was a pause as Francis yelled something back at Antonio. He pulled the phone away from his ear. "No. We did not. Can you and Gil come and find us or something? We're in the clearing, but I have no idea what direction is what... It's too dark." There was another pause and then Antonio nodded. "Gracias. See you soon, Francis." Antonio turned to look at Lovino. "They'll be here in about twenty minutes."

The Italian nodded and started packing up the things they had brought with them. He jammed items like phones and blankets all into Antonio's bag while the bastard tried to collect himself. He was still tired, that much Lovino could tell. He'd let him be for a little while at least.

True to his word, however, the remaining two members of the Bad Touch Trio arrived after only twenty long minutes. Those two were a sight for sore eyes, but they also washed a sense of dread over Lovino. He didn't want to be around them for much longer than necessary. In the few days he had been living in the apartment already, they had been around a lot. It was way too often in Lovino's opinion. The Albino Potato Bastard he could stand somewhat. He as at least funny. The blond French guy, however, needed to tone down his gayness just a little bit. He was nice and all, but he was so extravagant. Lovino was by no means a homophobe, but this French guy was over the top. He was loud and obnoxious and way too obsessed with love and sex. He felt very awkward and very, very uncomfortable around him.

"Mon Ami! I was wondering why you did not call sooner. How long have you been out here?" the blond bastard asked.

"A few hours," Antonio muttered, rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"So let me get this straight, cause Francis wasn't good at giving the awesome me an explanation," the Albino Potato Bastard. "You came out here and got lost. In the woods that you grew up in. How the HELL did you manage that? Don't you know this place like the back of your hand?"

"Sí. I do, but I got distracted," he mumbled. His lips were turned down in a slight pout. Lovino didn't like that look on his face. "I'm tired. Please tell me you drove here... We walked from the apartment, and I don't have that hike in me."

"We did. We are parked out on the road just on the other side of the woods," the Blond Bastard said easily.

"Thank fucking God! Can we please just get the fuck out of here?" Lovino asked I've been here for too fucking long, and I'd really be fine and fucking dandy going to fucking bed."

"Someone is grumpy without sleep," the Albino Potato Bastard mumbled.

Lovino shot him a cold glare. "And someone is going to get a foot to their fucking balls if they don't tell me how the fuck out to get out of here."

The group then started their trip through the woods. The journey out was a problem from the start. It was too dark. All of the flashlights were further ahead of him. He was already starting to stumble over roots and underbrush that covered the ground. Antonio stayed beside him to help him, but his presence alone wasn't going to keep him upright.

"Bastards, slow the fuck down. My phone is dead, and I don't have the fucking privilege of having a fucking flashlight."

Almost immediately, Lovino felt someone's hand wrap itself around his in a reassuring way. He wasn't expecting it. He very nearly pulled his hand away just from the sheer shock of it. No one ever held his hand. He looked down to see who it belonged to, but a voice answered him faster than he could make the conclusion.

"I'll lead the way, Lovi," Antonio whispered into his ear.

Lovino face burned with a sudden flush. He was glad it was too dark for any of the bastards around him to see. "It's Lovino..."

"Lo Siento, Lovino," Antonio said.

Lovino could hear the smile in his words. It made his face burn brighter. The fucking bastard was happy about this. He seemed to enjoy making Lovino flustered. He wanted to kick him, but he didn't want to risk falling over either. He opted to hold Antonio's hand, and he actually felt a little happy about it. For some reason, this pull towards the infuriating bastard was only getting stronger. It was frustrating. But his hand was warm, and he enjoyed holding it in his grasp.

The car came too quickly. Lovino didn't realize how close they were to the God damned road. He would have dragged that bastard out sooner if he had known how close they had been the entire time. The Potato Bastard and the Blond Bastard both climbed into the front seat while he and Antonio squeezed into the back. It was full of bags and wrappers and receipts from fast food places as well as some clothes. Lovino was disgusted, and Antonio seemed to feel the same.

"Gil, when is the last time you cleaned out the back seat of your car?" the Spaniard asked.

"The Awesome me doesn't need to clean," the albino replied, turning the key in the ignition.

"I can't even find the seat belt..." Antonio muttered as he dug around the car.

"Then hold onto each other."

As the word hold was mentioned, Lovino looked between him and Antonio. Their hands were still intertwined. He didn't think the bastard even noticed. He looked too tired to pay attention to a thing going on around him. Lovino felt the exact same way. He had been awake since the earlier hours of the morning, say nine a.m. The second the car started moving, he was out cold.

When he woke later on that day, he was tucked into his bed. He had vague recollections of being carried to his room, but it was all a blur. He knew one thing was for sure. He certainly felt something about Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.


	8. Chapter 07: Gaming

**Chapter 07: Gaming**

**Friday, September 18, 2015**

Class had gotten out early that Friday, and Lovino had opted to sit in his room, in front of his TV with his XBOX on. He should have been working on his art for his courses, but he needed a break. He'd been painting like hell, and he just wanted to sit down and relax. Hell, he very nearly hated everything he'd done so far. He needed more inspiration, but he wasn't sure where he'd find it. He'd been taking pictures like crazy. The material in the inspiration department was lacking. Besides, he had two years in the program. He had plenty of time to figure out what the hell to paint. His Senior show was in two years. For now, he wanted to blow off some time and play some video games. The game of choice for the day was Grand Theft Auto V.

And boy it was pissing him off. He had been playing since around noon when his classes got out. He was playing online for once, and he wanted to kill the weird guy that was following him around. The guy had spotted him in a shop when he was buying himself a new suit. They had gone on one heist together, made a little bit of money, and now the fucking bastard wouldn't leave him the fuck alone. He had been running around the entire God damned map trying to hide, but somehow the bastard managed to find him again. He was weird, too. His Gamertag was 'TheFancyDancer212'. That was the first thing that set Lovino on edge. Who the fuck named their account that? This was obviously a guy. His character was clearly masculine. And Lovino couldn't help but assume he was gay. The second thing that made Lovino creeped the fuck out was his overly amorous attitude. Hell, he was following him around offering him rides and to help him with other heists. And fuck! It was annoying. He didn't need help. He didn't want help. He had finally managed to hide by dipping out under a viaduct. The guy had driven past him, but he'd find him again soon.

Like hell. Lovino just needed his crew with him. He ran a sort of mafia in the GTA world. His Gamertag was well known throughout his server. He was RedCircleGreenLine. He led the small group on heists and through all sorts of shit. They had temporarily disbanded for a month or so for vacation time for the group. Hell, he wished they were there now to help him get rid of this FancyDancer guy, but no. Not a single one was online. Lovino needed to find a new outfit and some sort of vehicle, but hell he was broke. He had spent all of his earnings to upgrade the mafia hideout that was all the way across the map. He just so happened to get cornered as far away as fucking possible from the one place that offered him safety. Somehow this dancing bastard had cornered him on the wrong end of town. This map was too huge to try and cross on foot. He couldn't just hijack a car. It would have been a hell of a lot easier, but it would also mean he'd attract attention to himself. Attention he didn't need as a GTA crime lord. If other players saw him, they might hound him and kill him. Hell. That guy who was following him might have been running his own mafia. Lovino didn't know. He was paranoid like that.

Slowly, the Italian moved his character from the viaduct. He had to find some way across down. And just as he stepped into the sunlight, TheFancyDancer212 spotted him. Lovino very nearly threw the remote across the room. He was pissed. He just wanted to be left the fuck alone.

He received a message.

He cursed loudly, his face contorting with rage. This bastard wouldn't leave him the fuck alone. Lovino wanted so badly to curse him out in Italian over the mic, but he had broken his headset. There was no point in listening to anyone else, so he had turned off the live settings in the game.

Slowly, he opened the message. It read, "Do you want to go for a walk in the desert?"

A walk in the desert!? The fucking desert!? No, he did not want to go for a fucking walk in the desert. No. He needed to find an excuse. And hell, did he have one. He quickly typed back a reply and hit send.

He replied with, "No. I need to go and cook dinner for my boyfriend and me. Sorry. Bye."

And then he shut off the system. He did not want to be harassed by any guy named TheFancyDancer212. He was too proud for that. Hell, he didn't need to get harassed in a video game either. He didn't need that dumb shit in his life.

Then a thought struck him. He had called the Tomato Bastard his boyfriend. In the sudden panic that had engulfed him, he had called Antonio his boyfriend. He had allowed a stranger to acknowledge that he was gay. He had never told anyone that. Hell, he hadn't even fully admitted to himself that he was gay, but a complete stranger? A complete fucking stranger. AND HE HAD CALLED ANTONIO HIS BOYFRIEND. In a sense of complete panic, he had called his roommate his boyfriend. They were nothing like that. Sure, they had held hands once, but Lovino had convinced himself it was a friendly gesture in order to help him out of the woods. He couldn't even be sure if they held hands in the car. He was delirious. He couldn't trust his memories. But to call the bastard his boyfriend after that small occurrence was a huge step. He wasn't even sure he wanted any of that with Antonio. Did he?

Lovino groaned in irritation and glanced at the clock. It was four in the afternoon. He needed to get up and cook dinner anyway. It was his night... He furrowed his brow and left his room. He was certainly confused with himself. Thoroughly and largely. Well fuck. He had admitted that he was gay, and he called the Tomato Bastard his boyfriend. He'd never admit that to anyone ever again. Hell, he'd never ever tell his bastard roommate the fact.


	9. Chapter 08: Cooking Dinner

**Chapter: 08 Cooking Dinner**

**Friday, September 18, 2015**

The Tomato Bastard was certainly living up to his name...

When it came to dinner, that bastard sure knew how to set Lovino off. God, it was infuriating. Tonight was Lovino's turn to make dinner, and he was glad he didn't have to use a certain circular, red fruit. He and Antonio had been making lots of dishes with tomatoes lately. He liked them a lot, but that wasn't the reason he had been cooking with them before. They had a fucking million of them. When Antonio had found out that Lovino loved the fruit, he had gone out and bought more plants than he already had. They all seemed to want to produce fruit at the exact same time, too. By the time they were done bearing for the season, they had way too many for Lovino's liking. He didn't thirty plus tomatoes in his apartment at one time. There were only two people to feed. It wasn't as if he was feeding an entire neighborhood. As soon as he saw how much they had in the basket on the kitchen table, Lovino flipped. Yes, all of the fruit was fresh and homegrown. They weren't modified to grow bigger like those you'd find at a supermarket. They were small and sun-warmed sitting in the light the windows provided. But Lovino wouldn't have it. He had yelled at the bastard for making such a stupid mistake, and ever since then, Antonio had been using them in everything he cooked.

They had finally run out a few days earlier. Lovino had no idea what to cook without them at first, but there was no way in hell that he would admit that he wanted more; Antonio hadn't bought a single one since Lovino yelled at him. The Italian had too much pride to admit he was craving his favourite fruit once again. It wasn't fucking happening. Ever since then, he had been making dishes that didn't require them. And he didn't know as many of those, that was for sure. Tonight, he was making an alfredo sauce with homemade, cheese ravioli. He refused to buy the ravioli at the store. He found it to be better fresh. He made his own pasta dough the day before whilst Antonio had cooked dinner in preparation. He simply had to make the actual ravioli and the sauce. Not too hard.

That is, until the fucking Tomato Bastard walked into the kitchen and snuck up on him. The fucking bastard blew in his God damned ear. Lovino tensed up in front of the counter as he prepared his ravioli.

"Whatcha cooking Lovi?" he asked, leaning casually on the counter.

Lovino wished he had set a rule about the bastard being in the kitchen when he was cooking. He should have because this bastard was fucking irritating. He didn't have any sort idea for personal space and boundaries.

"A, none of your business. B, it's Lovino. C, why the fuck did you blow in my God damned ear?"

The bastard shrugged. He fucking shrugged. "Can I help you cook?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because it's my night to cook," he replied calmly.

"But I want to help. Fridays can become our night to cook." He wiggled his brows suggestively to emphasis the word 'our'. Lovino nearly gagged.

"No. Where the fuck did you come up with that stupid idea?" Lovino placed a hand on his popped hip, a single brow raised in confusion and irritation.

"Nowhere. Just a thought," Antonio replied. He was totally hiding something, but Lovino didn't press on.

"No. It's my night to cook. Fuck off."

"Please, Lovino?"

The Italian sighed in exasperation. He had the feeling that the Tomato Bastard wouldn't give up no matter how many times he was denied. It was part of his persistent personality. "Will you shut the hell up if I let you? And will you do everything I ask?"

"Sí."

"Fine. Then you can help, I guess..." Lovino muttered.

They cooked together in silence, mostly because Lovino had demanded it. The most that was said were Lovino's demands for certain spices. He also had Antonio grabbing certain items from the fridge for him. It was a nice system, having the Spaniard as his errand boy. Antonio had opened his mouth to speak a few times, but Lovino shot him a look and he promptly closed it. It didn't stop after the first time though. The constant opening and closing of his mouth was starting to piss him the fuck off. It was a disgusting sound. He wanted to wire the man's fucking jaw shut. After a few more minutes of this, Lovino finally turned to Antonio.

"If you have something to say, spit it out quickly, because if I have to hear you smack you mother fucking lips one more God-damned time, so help me..."

A smiled cracked onto Antonio's lips. How he could stand to be berated by him without getting upset, Lovino did not understand. Usually by now, he had someone yelling at him. The amount of fistfights he had gotten in during his high school years were of consequence to all of the insults he shot at his peers. The amount of detentions he'd had were just as bad. Antonio didn't seem to care nearly as much as half of the hot-headed assholes he'd had the pleasure of meeting when he was younger. He was surprised at how well the Spaniard seemed to tolerate him.

"I was just wondering how you learned to cook so well. Your cooking is amazing."

The one question he had allowed to spew from Antonio's lips brought him pain. He had managed to bring up the one topic that Lovino didn't want to talk about. It wasn't even the male's fault. It was an honest question. An honest, painful question. He didn't have to answer. He had half a mind not to. Hell, he really just wanted to kick the bastard out of the kitchen, but for some crazy fucking reason, he held back.

"My mother used to teach me when she felt well enough to. She taught both my brother and me," Lovino said, his voice soft as he turned back to his pan to stir the sauce he was working on. "Once she died and before we went to live with our Grandpa, I would cook for us both."

"I'm sorry for your loss..." Antonio whispered, placing a hand on Lovino's shoulder.

The Italian swore audibly. He had let that slip out too easily. He hadn't meant to allow the bastard to see too far into his past and personal life. He had gotten to used to talking about it at home with his grandfather it just slipped. This strange Spaniard had also gotten his walls down too easily. He had gotten him to speak about his past. For some reason, he felt comfortable around the naive man. And what the fuck was he supposed to say to him now? Brush it off? He knew that that wouldn't fly well with the bastard.

"Yeah... It happened a long time ago..."

"Can I ask how it happened?" Antonio asked tentatively.

Lovino shrugged off Antonio's hand as he tasted the sauce from the pan. It needed salt. He crossed the kitchen to get to the pantry where they kept all of the spices.

"Like I told you back in the woods. I had a rough childhood," he started. He pulled the salt from the pantry and crossed back over to the sauce. His steps were slow and cautious. "My dad was a drunk and a drug addict. When he was home, he beat on my mother. She never let him get to us. She protected us. After one particularly bad night when I was five years old, she died from her injuries," Lovino said. He stopped in front of his pan and closed his eyes with a sigh. He had left out some of the more disgusting details. He didn't tell Antonio about how his father dumped his mother's body in an alley. He didn't tell him how the man had made it look like a rape and mugging gone murderous. He didn't tell him how his father had gotten off. He didn't tell him any of that. He never would. He didn't need to know. These memories were painful, but the tears he had for it had dried up a long, long time ago. "Grandpa didn't know she had died until a few months later. In that time, with the little money I managed to make by walking dogs and mowing lawns, I took care of my brother. I cooked and honed my skills, trying to make something nutritious for Feliciano. I juggled school at the same time. It was rough, but I managed. Sometimes I wonder if that's the reason I'm so bitter now..." Lovino muttered. He was wading into dangerous territory. He was talking about his personality, his character. "I didn't have much of a childhood because I forced myself to grow up so fast to ensure that Feli's was better."

Lovino's hand curled tightly around the spoon he used to stir the sauce. He turned off the heat. It was done already. Once the flame was out, Antonio's arms were suddenly around him. He froze. Antonio was hugging him from behind. Antonio was hugging him! He was in shock. He couldn't even think up an insult to throw at him. He could only think about how his muscular chest was pressed against his back and how his very prominent male features pressed against his rear... NO! He could not think about Antonio like that! This was his roommate for fucks sake!

"I can help you relive your childhood, Lovino I can really try my best," Antonio said softly

"You'll give me a childhood? Bastard, I'm twenty-one-years-old. I'm well past the age of having a childhood."

"That's okay. I am, too, but listen. We can go to this convention in a few weeks. We can dress up and everything. Feel like kids again."

"No."

"We can be characters from that show you like. It was Hetalia, wasn't it?"

"I said no," Lovino repeated dully, disentangling himself from Antonio's warm embrace.

"Aw... Lovi, why?" Antonio asked, a pout forming on his lips.

"Because it's fucking stupid, that's why. Now let me cook!"

"C'mon, please, Lovi? Dinner is just about done anyways," he pleaded.

Lovino sighed. He couldn't ever win. Hell, he couldn't believe he was already considering agreeing. He told himself it was only because he loved Hetalia.

"Will you stop calling me 'Lovi'? And will you let me cook?"

"Sí!"

"Fine! I'll go to your stupid fucking convention!"

Antonio smiled happily and leaned back against the counter in that same relaxed way he had when he entered the room. "Great! I already have an idea for costumes!"

Lovino brushed off the words. "Get your ass off my counter and set the table, bastard."

"Sí, yes, Lovi- Er. Sorry, Lovino."

Yeah, that bastard better fucking correct himself...


	10. Chapter 9: Staring Into Each Other's Eyes

**Chapter 09: Staring Into Each Other's Eyes**

**Friday, September 18, 2015**

Lovino set two plates down on the kitchen table with a loud thud. Antonio was already seated. The bastard was smiling at him with that dopey grin of his plastered onto his face. He wanted to smack it off of him, but he was going to be nice. He wasn't going to ruin their dinner. He needed at least a few good moment with the bastard. He couldn't have himself hating his roommate. That would make for an unbearable year to come. Lovino sat down across from the Spanish bastard. He quickly sped off in Italian a soft grace before picking up his fork.

The first time he had done it, Antonio looked at him weirdly. He had claimed that he didn't figure Lovino for the religious type. Offended, the Italian promptly flipped him off and took his dinner to his room. He didn't come to dinner for the next two days until Antonio profusely apologized for making such rash conclusions about him. He also told Antonio off for assuming things about him. Then something dawned on him. In the woods, Antonio had told him he was gay and then asked if it would be a problem. Did that Spanish bastard figure he was a religious homophobe? He wasn't going to ask, not during their meal. He could berate the bastard for jumping to conclusions later. Hell, if anything, the bastard could think what he wanted. He didn't care.

"This is very good, Lovino<" Antonio exclaimed through a mouthful of food.

Lovino paused to look up at him with contempt and disgust. He repeated a phrase that he seemed to say during every meal that they had together. "How many times do I have to fucking tell you not to talk with your mouth full?"

A bashful blush spread across Antonio's features. "Lo Siento, Lovino."

"Damn straight you're sorry..." he grumbled.

"So, what did you do all day?"

Lovino could have audibly groaned. This bastard always wanted to talk during meals. He, on the other hand, preferred silence. The worst part of it all, he always inquired about Lovino's life. He often rambled on about himself, but he seemed to prefer to ask about Lovino. This was another one of those times. Begrudgingly, he answered. "Class got out early, so I played video games."

"What game did you play?"

"Why does it fucking matter?"

"I'm just curious."

"You're so fucking nosey... I was playing GTA V," he said. And then he remembered all the bullshit that went down. "Some creepy mother fucker was stalking me. I'm damn ready to set my mafia on him."

"Oh? Tell me about it?"

For once, Lovino was willing to ramble. He wanted to vent his frustrations about this creep. If Antonio was willing to lend an ear, Lovino was going to take advantage of the fact. "He wouldn't leave me the hell alone. Like fucking hell. And, he had a ridiculous fucking Gamertag. He called himself TheFancyDancer or some shit like that."

"Uh, Lovino."

"Like hell, he couldn't take the mother fucking hint. I was _obviously_  hiding from him. I was under a random ass viaduct for fuck's sake."

"Lovino."

"I told him I had to go cook, though. I hope he doesn't try and stalk me down again..."

"Lovino?"

"What?"

"That was me."

The Italian froze. The color visibly drained from his face as he sat completely still from shock. His fork was halfway to his mouth, but he dropped it with a loud clatter onto his plate. He should have known. He should have guessed. That was what Antonio was hiding when they were cooking. The guy in the game was obviously gay. He was proud to show it, too. He called himself TheFancyDancer. All of those signs pointed directly to Antonio. He was gay. He was a dancer. He should have known. His eyes grew wide with surprise as a crimson flush spread across his cheeks. He was sure he looked like a mother fucking tomato. He could have strangled himself for rambling out so easily. Hell, he really just wanted to die. Maybe disappearing would have been good, too, because he had called Antonio his _boyfriend_. Hell, he had admitted that he was gay. He could have said he had a girlfriend. But no. For once in his life, he opted to be honest to a total stranger. He dug himself his grave, and all he had to do was jump right on in. He felt the nagging need to leap across the table to attack Antonio for stalking him and creeping him out, but he couldn't. He was in too much shock. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again. He had no words for this situation. He was embarrassed and ashamed for saying such things.

He let his eyes connect with the Spaniards. He had only intended for the glance to be brief, but it was as if Antonio's gaze had a magnetic pull.

He never realized how green his eyes were. He never noticed the little nuances about them. The way they glowed when the light caught them. The darker rings just on the edge of his irises. The way they grew lighter as they got closer to his pupils. He never realized that they glistened in the natural sunlight. He never noticed that twinkle that came around when he smiled. He saw happiness and amusement in those emerald orbs, but he also saw fear and apprehension and sadness. There might have been disappointment briefly flickering across his magnetic gaze, but it was gone too quickly for Lovino to be sure of it. All in all, his eyes were beautiful. He never realized. Hell, he never realized how handsome Antonio was as a whole until he was forced to look at him, _actually, really_  look at him. He drank in everything that was Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. The dark tan of his skin which wasn't quite as olive as his own. His curling, light brown hair that was lighter than his own. Each and every one of those curls couldn't be tamed. It reminded him of the singular strand on his head that never lay flat. The gentle curve of his cheekbones as it accented his happy face. The way his cheekbones formed into the sharper of his chin, giving him a dignified, smart look. The structure of his form, so tall and straight, quite unlike Lovino's slouch. Antonio held himself proudly. It wasn't just his features that made him beautiful. It was his personality. Everyone liked Antonio. He was sure that the male had admirers. He was sure that girls chased him, no matter how oblivious and naïve to their attention he was. He had the ability to brighten a room just by entering, just as his younger brother had. His smiles were contagious, and Lovino had to fight them off of his face in order to keep his dark demeanor. His joy triumphed over all of his emotions. Antonio was truly a wonder of a specimen. He displayed his beauty for the world to see. It was then that Lovino came to his resolution. He never realized until that moment that he wanted those careless words that he spewed across the internet to be true. After that game, however, he wasn't sure if that would ever be true.

"So, you go around telling people that I'm your boyfriend, huh?" Antonio asked, the amusement in his voice quite evident. It pissed Lovino off.

"No!" he exclaimed. "I only did it because I was creeped out. I needed some excuse for that bastard - you - to leave me the hell alone! Besides, I could have been talking about someone else! It didn't have to be you necessarily! How the hell did you know it was me?"

"Red Circle. That's code for a tomato, Querido*," Antonio explained with a wink. "Besides, who else do you cook for on Friday nights, Lovino?"

Lovino stammered off a few unintelligible words before shutting his mouth completely and flipping the bird.

"Aw, Lovi, don't get upset, okay?" Antonio said, after swallowing another forkful of his dinner.

"I'm not upset. And my name's not Lovi. I thought we agreed that you wouldn't call me that!"

"Aw, but Lovi, aren't I your boyfriend?" The Spaniard pouted and furrowed his brows. There was no way Lovino would fall for it.

"No. You're not. Not even my pretend one. Quit fucking teasing me, Bastard," Lovino snapped. He was embarrassed. Hell, he didn't want to have this conversation. And Antonio was only making him angrier by teasing him.

"Do you want me to be?"

"Not in a- wait what?" Lovino was thrown completely off guard. Did he just say that? Did the bastard just...

"Do you want to be _together_... Do you want to be my boyfriend?"

Lovino said nothing. He simply sat there with his mouth agape. He wasn't expecting this. Not one bit. Had Antonio asked him to be his boyfriend? Lovino had never been asked something like that. Not once. He had been flying solo since he was in high school. He and Feliciano never really even had the same friends. This... Was different.

"I understand if you don't like me like that," Antonio stammered. He scratched at the back of his head, a flush covering his handsome cheeks. Doubt flickered in his green eyes, and for some reason, it tore at Lovino's heart. It was then that he knew. "I don't even know if you _like_ men like that. It was probably stupid of me to ask."

"Oh, shut up, Bastard."

Lovino said as he stood from his chair. He crossed over to Antonio and slipped onto his lap. This was completely out of character for him, but he didn't care. He straddled Antonio and placed his hands on either side of his face before kissing him gently. It was his first kiss, and he didn't have any other to compare it to, but it felt amazing. Slowly he drew back, resting his forehead on Antonio's. He stared into his emerald gaze once again, a rare smile stretching onto his lips.

"Yes, I'd like that. I'd _really_ like that."


	11. Chapter 10: Cosplaying

**A/N//: When I first started this chapter, I thought it would be easy. Then I watched a panel. Dear Lord, what did I get myself into? More notes at the end.**

**Chapter 10: Cosplaying**

**October 10, 2015**

He didn't know why the hell he was doing this. He didn't understand how that bastard had convinced him to go to the fucking convention. He had agreed on a fucking whim to relive his childhood, but now that the day had come around, now that he was walking throughout public dressed up, he wanted to kill himself. He didn't want to be dressed up in a costume. He didn't want any of this bullshit.

He and Antonio had dressed up as Romano Italy and Spain from his favourite show, Hetalia. As Spain, Antonio dressed up in a tan military fatigue from one of the world wars. He seriously looked like the character, and Lovino could see all the girls fawning over him already. His costume was perfect. He was a spot on Spain, and Lovino wanted to fanboy over it. He managed to contain himself. He was dressed to perfection. He was handsome, and the uniform seriously showed off all of his assets.

One thing Lovino had learned to appreciate about his boyfriend: his ass. That damn Spanish bastard had that perfect Spanish ass. Lovino loved it. In the mornings, before his shower, Antonio walked around in his boxers and gave the Italian the perfect view. Sometimes, he just wanted to reach out and grab it... Today, in the tight pants of his costume, Antonio's as looked fucking amazing.

That was the only bonus for Lovino that day. Everything else fucking sucked about going to this convention. Sure, he was being his favourite character, but he wasn't being the adult version. He wasn't wearing the tan uniform that would make his own ass stand out. Somehow, that bastard Spaniard had convinced him to wear something else entirely. He convinced him to wear a fucking dress.

Antonio dragged Lovino out a few days before the convention to be fitted for a costume by his friend. Elizaveta's house was not far from their own. She was in the fashion design major at the school and seemed more than willing to help him with his costume. She took the measurements and said she'd have it done the day before the convention. When he got to her house the day before, he was unpleasantly surprised. He had hoped she'd do a good job, and she did, but he hadn't expected the fluffy, pink dress that was presented to him. He hadn't expected the frilly, white apron that went along with it either. He was especially not expected the little, frilly white pantyhose that stuck out underneath the dress. Eliza had done an amazing job. He stitches were sure to last for years, but Lovino didn't want to wear it. He'd never tell her that. It was all Antonio's fault that she had made it. The bastard had only seen the show, so when he went to tell Eliza what to make, he must have shown her the Chibi Romano costume. He was supposed to wear a fucking short. And god was it fucking short. It rose above his knees at least five or six inches. The white pantyhose only reached his knees. He was going to shave his legs when he got home, but Eliza beat him to the punch. She sat him down and WAXED the fucking hair off of his legs. When he got home, he just about strangled Antonio, after showing off his baby smooth skin, of course.

Now, they were at the convention. Antonio was dressed up as a very handsome Boss Spain, and Lovino was dressed up as a very pissed off Chibi Romano.

"You look so cute, Lovi!" Antonio exclaimed, pulling the Italian along by the hand.

"Shut the fuck up," Lovino snapped, his face contorted with irritation.

"Awh! But Lovi!" Antonio whined.

"Don't 'But Lovi' my ass, Bastard. Don't call me Lovi at all. You stay in character bastard."

And then his was gone, distracted by one of the stalls. Of course, he went to the one for Attack on Titan. Traitor. Lovino rolled his eyes and looked for something more interesting to browse. He found the Ouran High School Host Club booth and browsed that for a while. Seeing as how Antonio was the one that had all of the money, he didn't buy anything. He just wandered. Aimlessly. And then he realized that he didn't know where the fuck the Tomato Bastard even went.

Lovino was pissed. He had told the bastard not to lose him. He wasn't keen on repeating the experience in the woods again. This was a bigger setting. There were people who acting the fucking same as trees. It seemed easier to get lost. None of them were his frustrating boyfriend. He had some sort of backup plan, but it didn't really work as he expected. He had anticipated that the Spanish Bastard would wander off. From the pocket of his apron, he pulled a folded up poster. He opened it and displayed it for the world to see. It read: _Have you seen the Tomato Bastard?_. He hoped it'd work, but with his luck, it did not. After walking around for a little while, he realized how shitty of an idea it was. There were too many other Spains around. He counted at least six of them. They often approached him to talk to him or to take a picture with him. He promptly flipped them off, which only seemed to thrill them even more. He wanted to kidney punch them all.

That, however, wasn't the worst part of the whole day. He still hadn't figured out where the hell Antonio was, so he settled with wandering around the convention. He had learned at some point that there'd be an 18+ panel for Hetalia, so he figured he'd go. He was about to get through the doors - after being carded not once but three times - when someone else grabbed him by the arm. It was a man in jeans and a suit jacket. He had on a shirt with the Hetalia: Axis Powers logo on it. He seemed tense for some reason. Lovino was about to tell him off for keeping him from going to the panel when the man spoke.

"You're supposed to be Chibi Romano, right?" the man asked.

"Yeah, bastard, what the fuck do you want?" Lovino asked, a sour expression on his face.

"How old are you?"

"Why don't you ask the last three fucks who carded me. I'm twenty-fucking-one," Lovino snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. "And now I ask again, what the fuck do you want?"

"Look, you're obviously a good cosplayer, so, can you do me a favor, kid?"

"What the fuck do you _want_?"

"Our Romano bailed for the panel because he is totally hungover, and you're very good at being him. People have been talking up a storm about you all day. Can you fill in?"

"This isn't a character, bastard. This is my personality."

"Even better. You'll be a riot. Will you please?"

Lovino hated to crush the hopeful expression on the man's face. Wait. No, he didn't. He was pleased to destroy his mood. "No."

"Why?"

"I don't fucking want to."

The man looked defeated for only a moment. Then he threw out his offer. "I'll give you free merchandise."

"Complete set of the printed manga?"

"Sure. Whatever you want."

"Done."

Agreeing to be on the panel was not the reason his day was shit. He was fine telling a few guys to fuck off for stupid questions. He was fine giving a girl a charming smile and saying something kind to them. He was fine sitting next to the girl that was supposed to play Italy. Her voice seemed oddly familiar, though.

And then it wasn't a girl at all.

The Italy was dressed up as Chibitalia, just like he was. They wore matching costumes. He played such an effeminate character that Lovino didn't notice. It wasn't a girl. It was fucking Feliciano. Lovino wanted to die. He groaned inwardly and turned his back to his younger brother. Of fucking course. His little brother was bound to notice him. He didn't want that, not one bit. He needed to hold him at bay for a few moments so he could collect himself. He chanced one more glance at his little brother before making a move to turn back around. What he saw stopped him cold in his tracks. He was instantly fucking pissed.

Feliciano was holding the hand of a tall blonde man with blue eyes. His little brother was holding _Germany's_ hand. FUCKING GERMANY.

"What the actual fuck? You're holding hands with a Potato Bastard?" Lovino asked incredulously.

"Lovi- Errr. Romano!" Feliciano exclaimed, a happy smile lighting his face. "This is my _friend_ , Ludwig. He's playing Germany!

"Your _friend_ , Fratello? Right. That's utter bullshit. You got a German boyfriend, and you didn't tell me?"

"I'll tell you later. It's okay, I promise!" Feliciano said, that smile never leaving his face.

"Whatever."

And then the panel began. A very loud man that Feliciano had called Alfred played America. He introduced the panel and explained the rules. There were only three.

The actors could deny doing anything that they were not comfortable with.

No asking for nudity, not even from France, because he will willingly strip is you ask.

No historical content to stump the cosplayer. None of them were history majors aside from a few.

That was it. Lovino wished that America had said no asking Lovino questions, but no such rule was given.

The first half of the panel was 'ask a nation'. The people watching the panel asked a whole bunch of questions of the countries. As that went on, Lovino quickly learned the actors, some of which he already knew. France was unsurprisingly played by Francis. Gilbert played a pretty kickass Prussia. Feliciano was, of course, Italy. Eliza was Hungary. Finally, there was one more familiar face.

The fucking Tomato Bastard who took his seat beside Lovino just as the panel began. He wanted to throttle the bastard. Why didn't he tell Lovino he'd be on a panel? Why didn't he tell him where the fuck he was going in the first place?

None of his questions could be asked or answered. They were in the middle of acting. Well. Most of them were not. These were their natural personalities, it seemed. Even Alfred, the American, seemed that he was being himself up on stage. It was as if the show was made around their lives. It was fucking weird.

And then came the first question for Lovino.

"I have a question for Romano," a girl said. "What is your favourite thing about Spain?"

Lovino spoke without hesitation. He could be nothing but honest with the girl. "His gorgeous Spanish ass," he said. He immediately regretted it. There were several catcalls from the audience as well as a handful of cheers. Antonio even wiggled his eyebrows at him. He wanted to shoot himself.

As the panel went on, he answered a few more questions. He didn't mind answering all that much. It was actually a little... dare he say it... fun to play his favourite character. The questions direction towards his little brother and Germany, however, pissed him the fuck off. He nearly snapped at everyone who asked.

And the came the 'dare a nation'. This was what drained all of the color from Lovino's face. Daring meant that he would be put in uncomfortable situations.

The first few were pulled from a hat. The worst that happened was that he had to hug Feliciano or smile at the Potato Bastard, which turned out to be more of a grimace. He didn't care. It was simple shit.

It was the audience who made things the worst for him.

And they didn't even have to dare him. They only needed to dare Antonio. That Bastard was ready for anything. That was when his day plummeted.

A male walked up to the microphone and simply said, "Spain, I dare you to sexily kiss Romano."

The Italian's mind went reeling. His eyes grew wide and he looked to the bastard who made the dare. That was his crucial mistake. He should have the Spanish bastard that was coming his way. Antonio didn't need telling twice. He stood up, pulled Lovino to his feet. He wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him closer. Their hips touched together. There was hardly a gap between the two of them. His other hand snaked up into Lovino's hair and started to gently tug. Antonio kissed his Italian boyfriend hungrily. At first, Lovino protested, trying to push him away, but after only a few seconds, he gave up. He let his hand slide up to Antonio's cheeks. The other slid south to that perfect ass of his. He held him close, ignoring the whistles and cheers from the audience. They were seriously loving the action going on in front of them. It wasn't until Germany cleared his throat that the two pulled apart. Lovino was entirely embarrassed whilst Antonio smiled smugly.

Fucking bastard.

The kiss itself wasn't the bad part of the day. It was the embarrassment he felt. His and Antonio's relationship seemed rather private. He hadn't even told Feliciano about it. Now his brother was sure to pester him.

For the rest of the panel, Lovino ignored every single dare. He flipped everyone off when they said his name. The only time he responded was when it pertained to him and Feliciano. He was dared to kiss his brother once, which he promptly refused, after yelling about incest for a solid minute. The audience was again thrilled with his reaction. Lovino was disgusted.

Overall, the panel wasn't too terrible. He did get a complete set of the Hetalia manga, which he was thrilled about.

At the end, however, he pulled Feliciano to the side.

"What the fuck is with your boyfriend? Why are you dating him?" he demanded after a quick hug.

"Ludwig is seriously the sweetest guy ever, Fratello!" Feliciano said with a giggle. "He looks all mean and tough, but he's so kind and gentle."

"You better not fuck him. You're too young for that," Lovino snapped.

"I don't know Lovino. You and Spain seemed pretty cozy during that kiss."

"Shut the fuck up, Feli."

**A/N//: So, that was the longest chapter I have written yet, I think. I know they're short chapters. I hope you're enjoying them!**

**As for my panel. I hope you liked that, too. I would have put more, but I had a better idea. Let's do an 'ask Romano/Spain' panel. If you have a question you like to ask either of them, then comment it! I'll answer to my best ability as either one of them. If you want to comment a dare, I'll also take those, too. I'll post all questions and dares that I answer to a new story as to avoid clutter on this one!**

**Okay.**

**Thanks for reading! Seeya tomorrow.**

**Gravey.**


	12. Chapter 11: Learning to Play Guitar

**Chapter 11: Learning to Play Guitar**

**Monday, October 19, 2015**

Lovino walked through the front door of his shared house and collapsed onto the couch. He was fucking exhausted. He had been in and out of art classes and art history classes since eight that morning. It was already well past three in the afternoon. He just wanted to take an afternoon siesta. Hell, he wanted to go to bed, but he knew he couldn't. He had to prepare dinner. It was once again his night to cook. He was half tempted to Antonio to take over. He would without a second thought, but Lovino felt bad for trying to take advantage of the fact that his boyfriend was a total pushover. He was also tempted to tell Antonio to fend for himself, but that was the same as telling him to cook because Lovino would inevitably mooch off of him for whatever he made. There was also take out, but the part time job that Lovino had gotten only managed to pay so much. He couldn't afford to order take out whenever he was too lazy to cook. No. He had to make dinner. He couldn't be a cold-hearted jackass to poor Antonio again. He had been a bastard as of late solely on the premise that he was tired. But Antonio was tired,t oo. He could see it in his eyes whenever he came home. Those dance lessons were seriously getting to him. They were getting to his ass, too, but that was a story for another time.

The Italian groaned and rubbed his face with his paint-covered hands. He had finally gotten productive in his classes. He had found his muse for all of his work. Now that he had it, he was diligently working. He was longer painting pictures of hyper-real tomatoes. No, this was better, so much more. Lovino glanced to the tomato painting on the wall. He had brought it home to store it one afternoon but made it no farther than the landing when Antonio stopped him and demanded to see it. Typically, he was too self-conscious to even show his work to his professors, but Antonio looked so earnest when he asked. He just had to show him out of sheer guilt. The second he unveiled the piece, however, he regretted it. The bastard insisted they put it on the fucking wall. Lovino fought it for a second or two but quickly gave up because he knew how stubborn his boyfriend was. Now, the painting hung up above their mantle.

Lovino closed his eyes to go to sleep. He could get to cooking in about an hour. It would be fine. He needed that hour of sleep. He was tired. He found himself drifting towards dreams. He dreamt of music, Italian at first. It was soft and lilting, and it reminded him of home. Home was where his family was. Grandpa Roma and Feliciano. Home was where he felt comfortable and safe. He belonged there. But his dreams also told him he belonged with someone else. He belonged with the twangs of Spanish music that emanated from an acoustic guitar. He belonged with the man that created the music that pulled at his heart. Home was with Antonio. He belonged with the man who wanted to give him the world. That beautiful Spanish music pulled him closer to the home he dreamt of, their little apartment with mismatched furniture and colorful utensils. Their tomato themed bathroom. In his dream, it seemed so real. The smiles he and Antonio gave each other. That beautiful Spanish man with the head of unruly curls and bright green eyes. Antonio.

Lovino's eyes cracked open and a rare smile formed on his lips. Even though the dream was brief, it still made him happy. That wonderful, frustrating, handsome bastard. The lilting Spanish music that his mind had managed to form for him. He wanted it all. He wanted that music to keep playing, to remind him of the man he cared for. And so it did. The music from his dream had not stopped. It still played, thrumming gently through the October afternoon. Lovino found himself listening to the vibrations, the hollow sound of the acoustic instrument. It was guitar, he realized. And guitar meant one thing.

Antonio.

Lovino pushed himself off of the couch and followed the sound outside onto the front porch of the house. And there he sat, guitar in his lap, against the wall. His eyes were closed as he plucked the strings with such eloquence. He didn't notice Lovino as he leaned against the wall. He was too engrossed in the instrument in his hands. Lovino didn't make his presence known, either. He felt no need. He just wanted to listen to the talented Spaniard play. He loved the calm between them, but he had no intentions of telling the bastard that.

Despite Lovino's attempts to be quiet, Antonio suddenly seemed to notice him. "Lovi," he said with that irritating smile. "Mi corazón!"

Lovino flushed, his heart fluttering just a bit. "Bastard, don't call me Lovi."

Antonio flashed a slight pout but patted the spot beside him for Lovino to sit down. He opted to scoot closer but did not sit right away.

"How was class?" Antonio asked, leaning easily onto his guitar.

The Italian shrugged and looked at his paint covered hands. "It was alright. I finally figured out a general idea for my senior thesis."

A smile lighted the Spaniard's face once again. "What is it?"

"That's a surprise," Lovino muttered.

"Oh. Alright. Let me know if you need any help."

"You can't really. Art is something I just need to do on my own or it isn't really mine," Lovino stared down at Antonio, his face scrunched with a perplexed sort of concentration. "When did you get home?"

"About ten minutes ago. I was playing in the park, but people kept giving me money, so I left."

"You didn't want it?"

"No."

"Why? You could have had a little bit of money to, I don't know, do something."

"I didn't it because I don't play for the money. I don't play for them," Antonio said softly, looking up at his Italian. "I play for you."

Lovino flushed and slid down the wall until he was seated next to the bastard. He chastely kissed him. "You don't have to say such ridiculous things." What he really want to say was: _I want you to play for me and only me. I'm selfish. Don't play for them. Play for me_.

Antonio shrugged. "I say them because I mean them. I want you to know and understand how much I care about you." He graced Lovino with yet another one of his gorgeous, carefree smiles.

"Shut up and play, bastard."

Antonio smiled again. This time, there was mischief hiding behind that smile. "You should play." He held out the acoustic guitar to Lovino, that smile only growing wider and wider.

"What? I-I can't!" Lovino stammered.

"Sure you can."

"I don't know how!

"I'll teach you."

Before Lovino could make another protest, Antonio pulled him close. He sat behind the Italian and placed the guitar in his lap. Lovino could _feel_  the heat radiating off of him. He could feel the rise and fall of his chest. He could feel the beat of his heart and his light breaths. It flustered Lovino more than he expected.

Antonio took hold of his left hand and brought it up to the neck of the guitar. He gently placed Lovino's hand over the strings

"This is the neck of the guitar. Up here you have six different strings that each play a different note. Each of these little bars that line the neck mark different frets. Each chord you play will require you to use different finger placements and frets," Antonio explained. He then placed Lovino's fingers on the strings one by one. "Put your index finger on the third string, your middle on the fourth, and your ring on the fifth. And then run your other hand down the strings on the other side to strum."

With a furrowed brow and the Spaniard's guidance, Lovino followed the instructions. The cold, metal strings dug into his fingers. He didn't have the callouses to play guitar. Antonio had once told him he'd been playing for years. He played with such each and grace. His fingertips had to be some of the toughest around.

"It hurts my fingers," Lovino complained.

"It does at first, but it gets easier," Antonio said softly. "It won't hurt for long."

Lovino promptly elbowed the Spaniard in the chest.

"Ow! Lovi, what was that for?" Antonio asked, his voice laced with pain. He curled into himself, his forehead resting against Lovino's back.

The Italian hid his tomato red face away from Antonio. "You naïve fucking bastard! Watch what you say to people," he snapped. "You can't just go dropping sexual innuendos like that!"

His boyfriend mumbled out an incoherent reply against his back. Lovino didn't bother asking him what he said. He saw no point.

"Just shut up and play, Antonio..." Lovino mumbled, turning his body around to face the Spaniard. He still held onto the instrument as to allow the bastard a moment to recover. To Lovino's surprise, his head shot straight up. He looked at the Italian with wide, surprised eyes. Lovino wrinkled his nose and furrowed his brow in confusion, his fingers curling around the neck of the guitar protectively. "What did I say bastard?"

"My name," the Spaniard whispered. It was barely audible, but Lovino still managed to catch it.

"Yeah? So? What about it?"

"You've never said it before..."

"What?" Lovino asked, his brow furrowing deeper. "Of course I have, bastard."

"No, you haven't. Not once. Not even when we met," Antonio replied. He was so sure of himself. His expression was set. He never wavered. He was telling the truth.

Lovino's stomach dropped and a cold sensation washed over him. He had never once said his boyfriend's name aloud. Daily, his name ran through his mind. Beautiful, wonderful, handsome, frustrating Antonio, but never once had he ever called him anything more than a string of curses. After all this time, Lovino must have left Antonio feeling unloved and uncared for.

"Toni, I'm sorry," Lovino stammered, his brow furrowed. Antonio was the only person aside from Feliciano and Grandpa he'd ever apologize to, the only other person he truly cared about. The only person's feelings he didn't want to hurt. "I didn't mean to..."

Antonio's response was to take the guitar from Lovino's hands and set it on the ground. He then pulled Lovino into a kiss, his fingers weaving up into the Italian's hair. Lovino was surprised at first at the suddenness of Antonio's actions, but he quickly caved, accepting the kiss easily and graciously. When the kiss was broken, Lovino rested his forehead against Antonio's.

"I'm not mad at you, Lovi," he whispered. "It just sounds amazing to hear you say my name."

A small, almost nonexistent smile reached the corners of his lips. "Okay, Antonio," he whispered. He was amazed by it, too. He allowed his name to roll off of his tongue with such elegance. He'd never tell the bastard, but he loved it. He was just as amazed as he was. He'd never tell him, though.


	13. Chapter 12: At a Party

**A/N//: Sorry. Here is yet another Author's note. I'm trying to make this as infrequent as possible. Just need to mention a few things about this chapter. I'm taking this from one of my other fanfictions, the Lovely Wounds. Yes. I'm cheating again. I am changing it around and such to fit this fic. It will probably be one of the longer chapters 'cause this was intended for a story that was longer. Hope you enjoy it. Happy reading.**

**WARNING: Yaoi and lemons! Skip if you don't want to read. Just an added bonus for the chapter. Unimportant.**

**Chapter 12: At a Party**

**Saturday, October 31, 2015**

It was Halloween, and his bastard boyfriend would not leave him alone. Antonio had insisted that, for the first time in several years, Lovino should dress up for the holiday. He had protested the idea up and down, back and forth, but he never seemed to win. Not against that adamant Spaniard. He never seemed to get out of those crazy schemes. The sun was setting. The daylight was coming to an end. Lovino and Antonio had spent a long, eventful day together. They had walked around the city, fingers linked. And when Antonio wanted to try something crazy - something like trick-or-treating throughout the dorm rooms - Lovino agreed without argument. He knew that he had no choice, not when there was free candy involved. They had spent their day well, but now came the part that Lovino had been dreading.

Antonio pulled up to a large house, parking across the street. They had pulled up to what Antonio had referred to as 'Casa Bonnefoy'. Francis was having his annual Halloween party, and according to Antonio, they couldn't miss it. Lovino would have preferred to stay home, but he couldn't. He would have felt horrible for leaving Antonio alone. Hell, he wouldn't just feel bad for leaving him alone, he'd feel jealous because of what he decided to wear. When they walked around campus, Antonio had worn his Spain costume from the convention. He had gone home to change last minute, though. What he came out wearing left Lovino dumbstruck.

Antonio said it was someone called Dr. Frankenfurter? He couldn't be sure. Hell, he didn't want to be sure. His boyfriend had used a wash out black dye in his naturally curly brown hair. He had painted his face with a pale color. His eyes were caked in dark purple and black makeup. And his lips - the lips Lovino loved to kiss - were covered in red lipstick. That wasn't even the worst of it all. He wore a fucking corset! A CORSET. And black underwear. They weren't boxers either. They were tight and hugged him in all of the places Lovino didn't want others seeing. He also had on fishnets attached to the underwear by garter belts. And fucking high heels. Tall ones, to be exact. Lovino wanted to kill him. He really did. He didn't understand how his boyfriend felt comfortable wearing that, especially with the pearl necklace around his throat.

Antonio called himself a 'sweet transvestite from Transexual, Transylvania'. Lovino simply gaped at him.

**Interrupting. This would be Antonio if he were dress as Dr. Frank N Furter. Cause perfection.**

Lovino, on the other hand, dressed modestly. He had gone with 1920s mafia. He had a fedora and everything. He had even managed to slick back all of his hair aside from that pesky curl. It was perfect. He wasn't showing off nearly as much skin as Antonio was.

The couple knocked on the front door of the house and was invited in by none other than Gilbert. He shook hands briefly. Gilbert was dressed up as some barbarian-esque kind of character. He was shirtless and scars covered his entire body. Lovino thought it was amazing costume makeup at first, but only after staring for a few more moments did he realize that they were real. He quickly averted his eyes and stood awkwardly behind Antonio. He didn't know half of Antonio's friends all that well, but Gilbert was okay.

Upon entering the house, Lovino felt overwhelmed. There were so many people. Francis had invited what seemed like half of the school's population to his and Gilbert's shared house.* Almost immediately, Lovino spotted someone he recognized. It was Gilbert's _friend_ Roderich. Gilbert always claimed that he was straight and that he didn't have a thing for the Austrian musician, but Lovino knew better. He wasn't stupid. Sitting there alone on the couch, Roderich looked just out of place as Lovino felt. The musician was dressed up as the Phantom of the Opera. It was so typical of him, but Lovino didn't care. He simply took the liberty of crossing the room and plopping down by the musician.

"Hey," Lovino said softly, his tone entirely exhausted from simply wading through the crowd.

"Oh, thank God," Roderich mumbled, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. "I told Gilbert I wasn't good with parties like these... I don't understand how they can simply do these sorts of things."

Lovino shrugged. Roderich was the type of person that liked sophisticated conversations and classical music. He didn't fit in well with the pounding music and tight clothes that most people were accustomed to.

"I'm still getting used to it. Antonio is going to drag me to enough of these things..." Lovino replied, offering a smirk.

"I don't think I ever will despite the man I see on a daily basis."

Lovino snorted. Gilbert was something else, and he didn't understand how Roderich had gotten so close to him. "You will eventually."

"I hope so..."

The Italian shrugged slightly, spotting a bowl of cake balls on the table. He looked at them skeptically, picking one up. He didn't want to eat anything that was just lying in a bowl on a table. He didn't know what was safe. "Can I trust these things?"

"I think Arthur brought them. He's that British man who often is found yelling at the poor American. They should be okay," Roderich said dismissively. "But then again, I wouldn't trust anything at parties."

Lovino popped the cake ball into his mouth. It was good, and it had a flavor that Lovino could place almost immediately. They were rum balls. He took another and ate it quickly. He enjoyed these little things. He'd probably top off the entire bowl if he could. He was about to reach for a third until he spotted Francis. He cursed slightly under his breath as he watched the blonde cross over to him.

"Lovino, mon Ami, I have found you!" he said happily, handing Lovino a red solo cup of some sort of alcohol. Lovino sniffed it. It was definitely wine. "Come with me. I have need of you."

"What do you want, Wine Bastard?" Lovino snapped.

Francis only smiled at Lovino's name-calling. "How are you enjoying the party?"

"It's too fucking loud," he muttered. He took a look at Francis only to notice that he was dressed up as a sexy looking Thor. He wrinkled his brow and scoffed. Of course, Francis would dress as Thor. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Can I not have a conversation with you, mon Ami?" Francis asked innocently.

Lovino took a sip of the wine. It was good. He liked it already. Whatever Francis had brought him... He begrudgingly admitted the bastard had good taste. He finished off the cup easily before looking back to the Wine Bastard. "No. I'm not your friend. What do you want?"

"Take a walk with me?"

The Italian was dragged to his feet before he had a chance to respond. It was then that Lovino realized that there was definitely something in the wine he had received from Francis. His tolerance for alcohol was by no means amazing, but a single glass of wine would not have him like this. He immediately felt dizzy, but he couldn't manage to get the words out to say so before Francis tugged him through the house. He was led to a dark hallway. He couldn't help but feel uneasy. A crazy Frenchman was leading him to a dark place after drugging him. Nothing good could possibly come from that. And Lovino was right. As soon as they were far enough away Lovino felt a piece of fabric come down over his eyes. It was tied behind his head and he was lifted from his feet. Lovino shrieked in surprise, but he doubted anyone could hear him over the pounding base that came from the speakers that were placed all around the house.

Lovino rapped on the back of the person that was carrying him, cursing profanely in Italian. He didn't know what the fuck was going on, and he wanted to be put down. Despite Lovino's protests, he was still carried off through the house. He didn't know where he was. He knew he was taken down a flight of stairs, but he couldn't tell where else he was going. It was getting quieter. The walls of the house blocked off the base a little, enough for Lovino to hear himself and his shouts. After a few more moments, a door was opened and Lovino was set down on the ground.

And then they reached for his clothes.

Lovino freaked. He did not want people stripping him. Whoever's idea of a sick prank this was, he wanted to murder them. Hell, he knew. Lovino cursed loudly again, the fear and anger rising in his chest. God, he could have killed Francis for this one. He knew the Frenchman was behind all of this. Just as Lovino was going to go off in another slew of curses, he felt a strip of fabric - probably his tie - being tied across his mouth. His yells were now muffled. Oh God, was he going to murder Francis. Strong hands pulled off his costume until he was down to his boxers. Or what were in place of his boxers. Antonio had tried to get him to be this character named Rocky or something from the same movie his costume was from. Lovino had adamantly denied the idea but still put on the golden underwear anyways. Now he stood in those gold underwear. He was embarrassed to be in such a state of disrobe in front of whoever was doing this. But he was going to _murder_ Francis in his sleep. He already had the Wine Bastard's death planned out in his head.

He was left alone for a moment He sat there for a moment before reaching for the blindfold. Bad move. His wrists were grabbed quickly and tied behind him. Lovino quickly stepped forwards but stumbled. He felt drunk and dizzy. Whatever drug was in that wine, it was strong. He sat down, his head swimming. There was nothing he could door. A door was shut and a lock clicked into place. He couldn't help but notice how terribly alone he was. There was no one else with him, and from the thumping that came from upstairs, Lovino could almost guarantee that he was locked in a basement closet. This was the work of the Bad Touch Trio. He should have stayed with Antonio, but he didn't even have a chance to keep close to the Spaniard. His boyfriend had been swept away by the crowds the moment they walked in the door. All Lovino could do was wait. The cold from the basement was already seeping into his body. He was a little afraid, but not by much. He knew Antonio would come and save him. At least he better. He'd kill him in his sleep, too, if he didn't.

~

_Antonio_

Antonio had somehow gotten caught up in one of Gilbert's senseless, yet fun, ideas. This time it was pole dancing. Yes. Pole dancing. Somehow, his _Prussian_ best friend thought he'd be better than him at pole dancing. Antonio was a dance major. He had no doubt in his mind that he'd be better at this. Plus, he was dressed up as Dr. Frank N Furter. How could everybody _not_ love him? He was going to refuse solely on the premise that he'd win without a second thought, but with enough whining from Gilbert and cheers from their friends, he complied. It wasn't like he had much of a choice. Antonio had left Lovino behind. He didn't want to leave his precious Italian alone in Francis' house for more than a few minutes, but he had seen him Roderich, Gilbert's closet boyfriend. He was a smart man. He'd protect Lovino. At least Antonio hoped he would.

Antonio took hold of the pole that Francis and Gilbert had conveniently installed in their house. He knew pole dancing took a lot of core strength, and as a dance major, he had plenty of that. He let his gloved hand latch onto the metal as he circled the pole slowly, his strut calm and collected. He then grabbed hold with both hands and looked back at the crowd that had gathered to watch. He gave a slight shake of his perfect Spanish ass - yes, he was vain and knew he had a good one - before pulling himself up onto the pole to perform a few tricks.

Gilbert simply watched with both horror and amusement. Francis joined him not long after, wrapping his arm around the Prussian's shoulder. Toni ignored them, a smile slipping easily onto his lips. Someone had started playing 'Sweet Transvestite', and he was enjoying himself far too much to stop to greet his friend. Gilbert usually prided himself on winning these sorts of bets, but after seeing the way the dance major took to the pole, he forfeited.

"Fuck that shit. I'm done. I yield. You are the King of shaking ass, Toni!" Gilbert yelled, walking away with his arms raised in mock surrender.

"Aw! C'mon Gil! Let's see what you can do!" Antonio called. "I'm sure your Prussian ancestors would be disappointed in your retreat!"

Gilbert turned around, his white brows raised high. "You didn't insult the pride of the Awesome Me."

"I did," Toni goaded.

Almost immediately, Gilbert took to the pole. It was needless to say that Antonio walked away as the champion of the night. He was sure videos would appear online the next morning, but he didn't care. It was the sort of thing he did with his friends. It was why they were called the Bad Touch Trio by everyone who met them. He and Gilbert performed the crazier stunts whilst Francis filmed from the sidelines. Sometimes it changed, but that was only when Francis decided to hit on someone with his insane French pickup lines. Tonight, Antonio was the victor, but there would always be other stunts.

Gilbert and Francis went off to talk away from the pole, but Antonio paid them no mind. He went off in search of Lovino. He had left him with Roderich on the couch, but by the time he got there, the couch was empty. Lovino was nowhere in sight. Antonio furrowed his brow in confusion. Where had his little Italian gone? He knew Lovino would be angry with him for disappearing, but he was hoping to return quickly. He had hoped to spend the party with the man. Now that he was nowhere to be found, Antonio was worried that he'd left. He spun in a circle, looking for a fedora with one wild curl sticking out of the top of it. The only other curl he saw was the one belonging to the Austrian musician.

Antonio walked towards him, his heeled strides full of purpose. "Roderich!" The male turned to face Antonio. Have you seen Lovino?" he asked over the pounding bass music.

Roderich looked up and nodded after a moment. "Yes. He was here a while ago, but Francis came as grabbed him about ten minutes ago. He never came back so I assumed he had found you."

Antonio's stomach dropped. Where was Lovino? Why had he not come back to Roderich? Had he sought quiet in another room? Antonio pursed his lips, furrowing his brow.

"Thanks, Roderich. Come find me if you see him, okay?"

Antonio didn't wait for a reply. He slipped into the crowd of people that inhabited the party. As far as Antonio could tell, Lovino wasn't in the sea of people. He pushed through the crowd, towards Francis' kitchen. If it was going to be any quieter anywhere, it'd be there. He barreled through the doors, taking a look around. The room was lined with all sorts of alcohol, and a very familiar, drunken blonde sat there gorging himself. Arthur Kirkland.

"Tonio!" he yelled with a laugh.

"Uh, hey, Arthur. Have you seen Lovino? I can't seem to find him..." Antonio mumbled.

Arthur shrugged nonchalantly. "No, but I heard the frog mention him to bird boy."

Frog. Bird boy. Francis and Gilbert. They had to have seen Lovino recently. He hadn't even thought to ask Francis who had come to view the competition later than the rest of the group. He might have sent Lovino somewhere quiet where he could relax. The Spaniard swept from the kitchen, leaving the very drunk Arthur alone. There was no point in asking anyone else. He knew where to find his answers. He heard the peals of laughter before he saw whom they belonged to. There in a circle stood Francis, Gilbert, and Ludwig. The younger, blond German looked and cold and collected as he had when he was a child. He didn't seem to want to take a part in the joke that Gilbert and Francis were laughing over. Antonio stepped closer to the circle, his brow raised.

"Have you seen Lovi?" Antonio asked, yelling over the music once again.

Francis immediately looked nervous. Antonio glanced at him briefly but looked to Gilbert as soon as he began to speak.

"Oh! I haven't seen him since before you came in," Gilbert said with a shrug. Gilbert was telling the truth. He had been with Antonio the entire time.

"Francis? Where is he?" Antonio turned back to other best friend, his hands falling onto his hips. "You look guilty. What did you do?"

Francis gave a nervous smile. "We set up a treasure hunt for you. Your prize is at the end."

The Spaniard stared at them in disbelief. The other two members of the Bad Touch Trio always seemed to live up to their name. They always wreaked havoc. It was funny, yes, but he was also worried about Lovino. Where had they taken him? How had Francis gotten ahold of him? Antonio wouldn't have been surprised if Gilbert had blackmailed his younger brother into helping them. Gilbert was able to dig up dirt on anyone. Hell, he could have simply said he'd trick Feliciano into dancing naked on the pole or something.

Francis handed Antonio a notecard with some words scrawled on it. It read:

_So our food won't grow mold, this keeps it cold._

That was a clue that was easy enough to figure out. It was the refrigerator. Antonio furrowed his brow and then looked up to Francis and Gilbert once more.

"You're not going to just tell me are you?" he asked.

"No, mon Ami," Francis said with a smile. "Happy hunting."

Antonio groaned inwardly. He really just wanted to find Lovino, and if Francis and Gilbert weren't going to help him, he'd have to find him on his own. He sauntered back to the kitchen easily weaving through the crowds of people. Some called out to him, commenting on his Frank N Furter costume, but he mostly ignored them. He was on a mission. He needed to find Lovino. Once in the kitchen, Antonio threw open the doors of the fridge. Inside, on the middle shelf was yet another card.

It read:

_Your pearly whites get covered with slime and grime if you don't use this in time._

Toothpaste. That one was easy enough. Antonio knew the house had two bathrooms, but Gilbert and Francis used the one of the top floors to store their personal belongings, especially during parties. It would be a bitch to climb the stairs in heels, but he didn't care. He made him way up to the bathroom, his green eyes set ahead. He entered the large room moment later and immediately went into the medicine cabinet. Propped up against the toothpaste was one one final card.

It read:

_Look up, look down, look all around where things in storage can be found._

It was yet another easy clue, but finding the final clue was going to be a bit harder. Gilbert and Francis had several closets in their house. Because he was upstairs, he tried all of those first. On each door, however, there was another note. Each had a different riddle that pointed him to a different door in a different room. Finally, by the time he reached the linen closet in the hallway, he found one that made some sort of sense.

The final one read:

_Searching high, searching low. Have you tried searching down below?_

And then it hit him. He didn't need to check the main floor of the house. He knew where Lovino was. Antonio thundered down the steps towards the basement. People milled around, but none looked particularly interested in a closet with a note taped to the door. Antonio, on the other hand, crossed directly to it. He read the note on the door.

It read:

_In order to set your prize free, you need only find the key_

_Do not worry, it's quite near. The key is in an empty can of beer._

An empty can of beer. It seemed so typical of Gilbert. Antonio honestly wanted to throttle him because there were at least thirty cans of beer just laying about the basement. Someone could have gone around cleaning already. Antonio was genuinely worried about Lovino, and if the key was missing... He sighed and let his green eyes sweep around the room. He laid eyes on Gilbert's lamp in the corner after only a few seconds. The stand itself was a beer can. Antonio hoped that was it. He crossed the room and felt around the lamp until he found it. A small little key.

He was at the door in a heartbeat. He inserted the key into the door and turned. It clicked open easily. Antonio threw open the door. On the door, sporting a pair of shiny gold underwear, was Lovino. He was blindfolded and gagged. His hands seemed to be tied behind his back. He sat cross-legged on the floor. As soon as the door opened, he tensed. Antonio crouched down and pulled the blindfold off of his eyes. Lovino looked confused at first, but after a moment he realized it was Antonio through all of the makeup. A look of pure relief crossed his features. Antonio pulled the gag from Lovino's mouth and pressed a kiss to his lips. He had to admit. Lovino all trussed up and gagged was an absolute turn on. He blamed it on his past life as a Conquistador.

"You had me worried, Lovi," Antonio whispered, wrapping his arms around the Italian. "Don't wander off of your own!"

"You're the one who fucking left me, bastard!"

Just as Antonio was about to open his mouth to reply, the door slammed shut behind him. He heard Francis and Gilbert's familiar laughs before the locked clicked. They were shut in. Two-thirds of the Bad Touch Trio had just locked them in a closet, and Antonio was sure no one would let them out for the rest of the night. The Spaniard could hear Francis ushering people out of the basement. They were locked in a closet. Together.

And what matters stranger, there was a bed prepared on the floor.

It seemed as though Francis and Gilbert had been planning this night out for a while.

~

_Lovino_

Lovino had been in that closet for too damn long. His limbs were starting to ache. The drugs in from his drink had worn off already, and he knew he was locked in a fucking closet. He made no attempt to move, though. He didn't want to. That bastard boyfriend of his was going to come and get him. And he did. And the worst part of it all: Antonio got himself locked in the fucking closet, too. They were both in this small space, and Lovino wasn't having it. He was in a pair of GOLD FUCKING UNDERWEAR. He was cold, and Antonio was covered in some fucking hideous makeup. He didn't want to be there.

"Bastard, untie me," Lovino snapped.

When Antonio spoke, Lovino could hear the pout in his voice. "But... Lovi, you look kind of hot like that."

A blush spread across Lovino's cheeks like wildfire. This was not what he had been expecting Antonio to say. He had expected the bastard to comply. But no. He tells Lovino _that_. He could already feel the bulge below his waist forming. He was so grateful for the darkness in that moment that he had trouble making up a reply. Antonio simply kissed him again, his hand trailing downwards towards the Italian's crotch. He grabbed hold, and Lovino let out a small whimper. He squeezed his eyes shut and clamped his teeth down on his lower lip.

"Antonio..." Lovino whispered against Antonio's lips. "This isn't fair... I can't even touch you."

Lovino could feel the smirk forming on Antonio's lips. This bastard always seemed to get cocky when life turned sexual. This was by no means the first time they'd done anything, but it was the first time outside of his home. It was the first time when Lovino couldn't tangle his fingers through the Spaniard's hair. It was the first time Antonio had complete control.

And that Tomato Bastard seemed to love it.

As the couple kissed, Lovino felt his golden underwear disappearing. Antonio slid them down off of his legs and tossed them onto the floor before laying Lovino back. In the darkness, after his eyes adjusted just a bit, Lovino watched Antonio pull off his own fishnets and underwear. He then heard the bastard chuckle.

"Francis was totally prepared... He left a convenient tube down here..." Antonio whispered.

Antonio hoisted the Italian's legs up slowly and carefully. Then, Lovino heard the sound of lube coming from a tube. He hadn't entirely been expecting the two cold fingers that entered his ass.

He sucked in a deep breath and hissed out his boyfriend's name. "Antonio..."

Antonio stayed quiet, and it killed Lovino. He wanted to hear his lilting Spanish accent whisper his name. He wanted to hear him speak. He wanted to hear the Spanish curses leave his lips. He wanted to hear every filthy phrase. But Antonio remained agonizingly silent. He fingered Lovino, leaving the younger male in a state of euphoria. And then his fingers were removed. Lovino whimpered out of protest, but he didn't have to wait long. Antonio entered quickly after his finger's retreat. Lovino hissed out his name once against, his breaths coming out in quick gasps. The Spaniard moved his hips at an agonizingly slow rate. He was building to find his climax, that much Lovino knew. And he also knew that the bastard was enjoying it. He was enjoying making Lovino suffer through his hard on.

After many agonizing minutes, Antonio found his release. In the darkness, he called out Lovino's name, and Lovino simply wanted to kiss him.

"Toni..." he whispered back as Antonio pulled out of him.

And then he felt the Spaniard's warm lips surrounding his tip. Lovino whimpered again. Antonio was going to suck him off until his came. His thighs tightened slightly around his head, but Antonio used both of his hands to force his legs back open. Small moans escaped Lovino lips. Under different circumstances, he would have told Antonio off for making him moan. Little things during the day. But anytime they went to bed... it was as if Lovino was a whole different person.

"Toni..." he whispered through his gasps. "I-I'm close..."

Moments later, Lovino came. He called the Spaniard's name through it all, his breaths coming out heavy. Antonio untied the ropes from his wrists not long after and pulled him close. Sweat covered both of their bodies. The room was sticky and hot, but neither cared. They only cared about each other and the sweet, sweet bliss that always followed after sex.

**A/N//: Okay. Yeah. That happened. Totally wasn't planned. But it happened. So yeah. Let's get some things out of the way. We'll go backward.**

**I'm terrible at writing smut, but I tried. I have no idea how to describe pole dancing, either. So ya know. That was brief. It was all brief in the longest chapter I've written yet. So yeah.**

**Now the real reason I was going to put an Author's Note at the end. I threw in a little * asterisk buddy up there somewhere. It pertains to the fact that I made Gilbert and Francis share a house. I thought I had originally put them in dorms at the college, but I can't seem to find that fact anywhere. Cause ya know. I suck at searching for things in my own stories. So. Ignore that tidbit of information if it's there. Point it out to me if you'd like. Yup. But it's canon now. So yeah. :D Hope you liked that foreverfuckinglong chapter.**


	14. Chapter 13: Under an Umbrella

**Chapter 13: Under an Umbrella**

**Tuesday, November 3, 2015**

It was raining. Correction. It was fucking pouring, and Lovino was stuck under a tiny ass umbrella with Antonio. And for once, he thought one of their dates might go okay. As they had agreed, Lovino went and hung out with Antonio at least once a week. And as November came along, so did the rain. Most of the previous week had been rainy, so they decided to stick through it and go out anyways.

When they left for lunch that afternoon, the sky was gray and dreary. They had decided to stick relatively close to home. Antonio's car was low on gas, and neither of them could afford to put anything in it until the end of the week. In the meantime, they had to walk everywhere they went. They were only a mile or so away, so walking shouldn't have been too bad.

Until it was.

By the time they were actually ready to leave the cafe, the sky had opened up to a torrential downpour. Antonio had tried calling Francis and Gilbert, but they were in class. Lovino didn't have any friends on campus that had a car - he didn't have many friends at all - so they were shit out of luck. They had walked to the cafe, and now they were walking their asses back.

And such was life.

They were crammed under Lovino's small, one-person umbrella. Antonio hadn't thought to bring his own. He had sworn up and down, left and right that because there was no rain when they left, there wouldn't be any later. He had promised Lovino that they'd be back before the rain opened up.

_"Are you sure we'll be back before it starts?" Lovino asked, twisting his hands together in circles._

_"Sí_. _We will be back, I promise, Lovi!" Antonio had replied, a smile stretching across his tanned face._

_Lovino had to hope he was right. He had to believe that dazzling smile. He didn't want to be caught in a storm. It was the last thing he wanted for his day. He looked out at the gray expanse of the sky outside of their windows and shuddered. No. He did not want to be out during that storm._

"This is your fault," Lovino snapped. He felt entirely unprotected by the small device. Antonio had to hold it as he was taller than the Italian. Lovino felt all of the little droplets that bounced off other things hitting him. He was getting the brunt of the rain. "If you had brought your umbrella, this would have been so much easier, you know that?"

"Sí. I know," he said, a pout on his face. "Lo Siento, Lovi."

"Quit pouting and quit calling me Lovi. It makes it harder to stay mad at you, Tomato Bastard."

"That was the point."

Lovino sighed dramatically and then fell silent. He didn't want to deal with this. He wanted to be home. He didn't want to be soaked to the bone. Hell, he didn't want to shiver in the chilling, biting wind, either. Yeah, he didn't mind be up tight against Antonio as they walked under the tiny umbrella, but he'd never admit it aloud. There were a lot of things he couldn't admit. He couldn't give the bastard that satisfaction.

Thunder tore through the sky, and Lovino jumped. God, he hated storms. He just wanted to go home and curl up under some warm blankets with Antonio. He could settle for watching a movie before he had to go to class later on that night. He just wanted to be out of the rain as quickly as possible. It was wet and cold and all around undesirable to be in.

"How far are we from home?" Lovino asked.

"Maybe a few blocks. Do you not recognize this area? We walk this way every time we go out."

"Bastard, you know well enough that I have no sense of direction," Lovino snapped again. Conversation got his mind away from this shit predicament, and he'd gladly take the distraction any day, but he didn't want to talk about this _again_. "I can hardly find my way to art every day. Quit reminding me."

"You never cease to amaze me, Lovino."

"Fuck off."

"I'd rather help _you_  with that.

Lovino's amber eyes flicked around the barren sidewalk in search of anyone who could have overheard. Satisfied with the desolation around him, Lovino promptly elbowed Antonio in the stomach.

Bad move.

Antonio very nearly dropped the umbrella. Lovino was exposed to the rain for only a matter of a few second, but it was all that was needed to soak him.

"God dammit, Bastard!"

"Lo Siento, Lovino!" Antonio said, rubbing his stomach with his bare hand. "Your kidney shots are painful, you know."

"Shut up. Can we just hurry up and get home? I'm fucking freezing."

"Sí. We are almost there. Just another block or so."

Lovino nodded, brushing his sopping wet hair from his eyes. He was already cold and wet. He was at least grateful he had some dry portions of clothing left. Until a truck came barrelling down the street. Lovino got hit with the entirety of the splash. Antonio was shielded by his body. That was the last straw. He handed off his phone to Antonio before stepping out from under the umbrella.

"Fuck this shit! I'm done!"

"Lovi! Lovino, wait!" Antonio called. He had to run to catch up with him.

"No. I'm already wet," he snapped, not breaking his stride. "What the point of an umbrella?"

"You'll get sick if you keep getting pelted with rain. Can't you at least try to dry off?"

"No! We're nearly home!"

"You can get hit by lightning!"

Thunder crashed through the sky immediately after Antonio said those words. Lovino quickly slinked back under the umbrella. There was no way in hell he was sitting out under that. "J-Just hurry the fuck up!"

They reached home not that long after. Lovino didn't even bother to go to his room before he started pulling off his wet layers of clothing. He tossed them onto the floor with a sickening, wet _plop_  and stalked up the stairs towards the bathroom stark naked.

Did he do it on purpose? Yes. Did he want the bastard downstairs to follow him? Yes. Did he? Yes. Was Lovino ever going to mention this aloud? Hell, the fuck no.


	15. Chapter 14: During a Storm

**WARNING: Mild child abuse.**

**Chapter 14: During a Storm**

**16 Years Earlier...  
**

_The thunder clouds were rolling high in the night sky. Lightning flashed not long after each thunder. The storm that had ravaged the Southern part of Italy was moving North. It was moving closer. It was the first time that during a storm, Lovino didn't have his mother. It was the first time since the day he was born she hadn't been there to comfort him, to talk him through the frightening noises outside._

_"Don't worry, Lovi," she had always whispered as she held him tightly in her arms. He was her baby. He loved her unconditionally, and she loved him. She protected him. "I'll teach you how to be brave. I promise."_

_Lovino was ashamed that she had to hold him during the stormy weather, but she never pointed this out. She simply made it her duty to care for him. She never pointed out that Lovino was weak compared to his younger brother who looked at such storms with interest._

_Not like his father. His father yelled at him, told him he was a failure, a coward. If Feliciano could smile bravely through a storm, then so should he. He shouldn't cry because the thunder was loud and scary. He shouldn't cry because his mother wasn't there to hold him. One day his mother wouldn't be there. One day he'd grow older and leave home, and she'd be unable to go with him._

_  
_ _Lovino never knew that that day would come so fast._

_His mother died only days before that terrible storm. She died too soon. She was too young._

_Now the terrible storm was upon him, and he sat curled up under his bed, his blankets shrouding him. He was terrified. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks. He just wanted his mother. He wanted her warm embrace._

_She died too soon. She died before she could teach him to be brave. She died, and with that, she had broken her promise._

**Tuesday, November 3, 2016**

Just as Lovino was leaving for his Tuesday night art class, the power went out. From the doorway where he stood, he could see the light in the main campus build just across the way from their flat flickering out. The storm had probably knocked out the power for the entire town. This was seriously one hell of a storm. He could only remember one that was worse, and he was for sure not going back out into it. Lovino looked out the open from door in dismay. He had been hoping to get out of the house. He wanted to use his art to distract himself. Instead, he was staying home.

Antonio was already lighting candles in the kitchen when Lovino entered. He smiled vaguely at Lovino while he concentrated.

"No class?" he asked after a moment.

"Main building is out, too. I can't do art in the dark. I'd fuck up all of the colors."

Antonio nodded. "You can just stay home with me. We can tell ghost stories and-"

Lovino cut him off and shrugged. "I'll be up in my room if you need me."

Antonio nodded briefly, and Lovino walked away. He was glad the Spaniard hadn't fought to get him to stay. In the darkness, Antonio didn't notice that he was shaking. He couldn't see the tears in the corners of Lovino's eyes. The Italian was truly glad that Antonio hadn't realized how truly terrified he was. On the other hand, part of him ached for the Spaniard to notice.

_Antonio_

Antonio sat alone on the couch, a book in his hands. He was reading by candlelight about the history of ballet for one of his classes. In all honesty, even though he desperately craved to be, he was no intrigued by the book like he'd normally be. The entirety of it bored him, but he didn't set it down. He had to distract himself from Lovino. He could tell that he wanted to be alone just by the way he stood. He was shying away, and as much as it bother Antonio, he didn't want to pester him. It had been about three hours time since his little Italian had locked himself in his bedroom. Not once had he come down. Usually, he came down for his before bed snack by now, but not once had his door opened. Antonio was tempted to go in and check on him, but rarely did he ever enter Lovino's room. Whenever they had shared a bed, they had stayed in Antonio's room. The Italian enjoyed his privacy. Some nights he brought home his paintings to work on them, and Lovino was adamant that he should not see a single one until they were all hung for his Senior Thesis show. Because he cared for Lovino's privacy as well, he didn't press the matter. He also didn't go into his room. Now, however, Antonio felt the need to check on him. Lovino could have been sleeping, but something seemed desperately off about him after their shower. Once the power had gone out, Antonio had envisioned that they'd sit curled up on the couch, talking and exchanging stories in the candle light. No. Lovino had shut himself away. He said nothing else. Usually he gave Antonio the opportunity to sway his decision. Not this time. Something was definitely off.

Antonio sighed in defeat and put his book down. He needed to go check on the Italian. He was probably sleeping, he assured himself, but he check anyways. He had to be sure that he was okay. Antonio made his way up the stairs towards Lovino's door. He knocked gently, and when no response came, he figured his boyfriend was asleep. And then thunder tore through the sky, followed quickly by lightning. I was then that Antonio could have sworn he heard something. He knocked again, but still no response came. Slowly he opened the door and looked inside. Through the darkness, he did not see Lovino's sleeping form on his bed. Hell, he didn't see Lovino at all. Had he left the room to go to the bathroom when Antonio wasn't paying attention? He popped his head out. The bathroom door was open. Lovino wasn't there, either. He never even considered leaving the door open when he went to go brush his teeth. Antonio looked back into the room. Where was he? Antonio wasn't sure. He was about to go look for him when thunder cracked across the sky once again. This time, Antonio heard it. It was faint and soft, but it was definitely a whimper. He didn't know what direction is was coming from. The flash of lightning that followed not long after the thunder, however, led him to his destination. It was coming from the closet. Antonio crossed the room and opened the double doors to the large closet.

And there he sat, his precious Italian, curled up on the floor in the corner. He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulder. His arms hugged his knees to his chest. He shook violently, and from what little of his face that Antonio could see past his knees was covered in salty tears. When thunder and lightning sounded again, signalling the arrival of the storm, he jumped and whimper escaped his lips once more. The Spaniard knelt down beside Lovino and pulled him close. Lovino still in Antonio's arms. It was as if he had only just noticed Antonio's presence. It was then that Antonio just how terrified Lovino was. He had blocked out the rest of the world and focused on the storm. The small, tough Italian was petrified of storms.

"Bastard," Lovino whispered, his voice heavy and full of despair. "Go away..."

Antonio pulled Lovino closer. "No. I'm not going anywhere. There is no discussion," he said. For once he as going to put his foot down. He wasn't going to let Lovino suffer alone. "Just let me hold you. Just let me stay."

Reluctantly, Lovino nodded, lifting his face from where he had buried it between his knees. Antonio took it as an opportunity to wipe the tears from his Lover's face.

"How long have you been up here?" Antonio asked.

"Since I left the kitchen..." Lovino mumbled.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I'm weak... I'm afraid..."

Antonio hugged Lovino closer to his chest. Outside the storm grew louder. "That doesn't mean you have to suffer alone. Never. I will always be here."

"Don't say that! How do you know?" Lovino sobbed against Antonio chest.

How did he know that? For so long, Antonio had been so unsure about his future. It wasn't until he'd met Lovino, until he'd truly looked at his eyes that one night during dinner. The way he stared at the Italian and the way he stared back. He had seen all of the emotion behind Lovino's trouble gaze. He had just wanted to take away all of his despair and embarrassment. He wanted to see light in those eyes, happiness, but more than anything, he wanted to see those eyes everyday to follow.

It was then that he realized that he loved the scared Italian that he held in his arms.

"Lovino I'm not going anywhere because... I love you."

Lovino stilled once again in his arms. When he spoke, his voice was a cold monotone. "How can you love someone who ruins everything?"

_Lovino_

"How long have you been up here?" Antonio asked.

Lovino mumbled out a response. "Since I left the kitchen..."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

 _Because you're light, and I am darkness. Because your beauty shouldn't be tainted by ugliness. You should smile when I cry._ "Because I'm weak... I'm afraid..."

Antonio pulled him closer and Lovino nearly broke. He fell into Antonio embrace as the storm grew louder, scarier. He just wanted it to go away. He wanted to feel safe and brave when Antonio was there. Instead, he was crying like a small child.

"That doesn't mean you have to suffer alone. Never. I will always be here."

And then the floodgates opened. Everything he'd been holding back, all of the thicker tears that had been blocked by a dam of self control cascaded down his cheeks. It was all because of stupid, careless Antonio. "Don't say that! How do you know?"

The Spaniard replied without skipping a beat. "Lovino I'm not going anywhere because... I love you."

Lovino stilled at the words. Stupid, careless, naive Antonio. So little did he know... "How can you love someone who ruins everything?"

_{The small boy with the dark hair stared at his father, a broken vase between his feet. He hadn't meant to break it. It had just happened. He was running through the dark house. He had was just trying to hide from the storm. He couldn't see. It was an accident._

_"Why can't you just sit and play nice like your brother? Instead, you run around in the dark! You always break things!" the boy's father snapped._

_"Papà," the boy whispered over his rising emotions. "I-I... I-I'm-"_

_The boy was cut off by a rough slap to his cheek. He was hardly five years old. It was just a child. It was the last time he ever tried to apologize to his father. Whilst the words froze on his lips, his father hit him again._

_"You ruin everything!" the man roared. He grabbed Lovino by the collar of his shirt. The boy could smell smell the alcohol on his breath. He had been drinking. He was already long past drunk. "You ruined everything for your mother and me! We had dreams. We had aspirations! And then you came along!"_

_Lovino trembled in his father's grasp. He was unused to such verbal abuse. He was unused to speaking about his mother. Her death had only been a few days prior. It was still a tough wound._

_"She wanted to name you Lovino, and I couldn't help but agree. Do you know why? Because it sounds like rovino. Fuckin' means I ruin," he said with a laugh. "It fits you perfectly. You ruined everything, and you still ruin shit. Fuckin' stupid, pathetic kid."_

_Lovino refused to cry. He refused to let this man see his pain, but he couldn't help to agree with him as the years went by. He did ruin everything._

And he still did.

Poor, naive, stupid, careless Antonio fucking Fernandez Carriedo. He mad Lovino laugh. He was literally laughing through his tears. He sucked back a bit of snot. "My parents named me Lovino. Who names their fucking kid that? It's literally in my name," he said in dull, cold tone. "Rovino. I ruin. My bastard of a father was quick to rub that in my face."

Antonio pulled him closer. "You've ruined nothing. I've only seen you make and create," he said in that soft lilting voice of his. "You made me love you."

Lovino laid his head against Antonio's chest. His arms snaked around his waist gently. Yes. He loved Antonio, too. It was scary, just as scary as the storm outside. He didn't want to love. It was dangerous, especially for him. He ruined things. He'd surely ruin this. But now was a moment of weakness. For once he'd tell that stupid bastard what was on his mind.

"I love you, too..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the friend who helped me through each storm until the day he died. May he rest in peace.


	16. Chapter 15: Someone Is Sick

**Chapter 15: Someone is Sick**

**Wednesday, November 4, 2015  
**

Everything was burning. His entire being and every inch of his skin was on fire. It wouldn't go away. He felt tangled in his sheets. He couldn't get out. He couldn't get cool. He was burning, and it hurt him so much. He'd felt fine only hours before. Why was this happening now?

And then something cold rested against his forehead. Lovino's amber eyes cracked open and came in contact with Antonio's own frantic emerald green ones. He stood over him with a cold washcloth pressed to his forehead. Lovino leaned into his touch, into that cool to keep the burning away.

"What time is it?" Lovino asked. His voice sounded so dry, so cracked.

"It's three a.m.," Antonio whispered. He sat down beside Lovino. The tension in his figure seemed to visibly relax. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. "Oh, Dios Mio, Lovi... I was so worried..."

"Why are you worried, bastard?" Lovino muttered. The storm was gone. He had no reason to worry. Hell, they had slept in Lovino's bed after it passed. The only problem now was this intense heat. Had Antonio turned up the heat or something? No, that wouldn't work... The power was still out. His alarm clock hadn't come on.

"You have a fever. You wouldn't wake up. It's at 102, Lovi," Antonio said, his voice shaking slightly. He ran the towel across Lovino's face and neck in some attempt to cool him down.

"Bastard... Stop, I'll be fine," Lovino mumbled, pushing Antonio's hand away. He immediately missed the cool touch the towel brought.

"No... You're sick. I'm taking care of you."

"It's nothing that I can't handle..." Lovino muttered. He was still on fire, but that wasn't anything he hadn't dealt with before. It was just a fever. He wanted to take a cold bath or something. He wanted to remove the heat from his body, but that wasn't anything he was going to tell that bastard. That would only make him dote on him more.

"Lovino, no. To hell, if you think I'm going to let you suffer alone," Antonio said.

This bastard was starting to get on his nerves. All of a sudden, he was trying to wear the pants in this relationship. That wasn't going to fly with Lovino. He had been the one calling the shots even though Antonio was older. He didn't care.

Slowly Lovino pushed himself up in bed. He threw back the covers, much to Antonio's dismay.

"Get out of my way, bastard," Lovino grumbled.

"Lovino you're not getting out of bed," Antonio protested. The Italian ignored him, stretching out his stiff limbs. "Lovino. Where are you going?"

"It's fucking hot in here. I'm going downstairs," he muttered as he threw his legs over the side of his bed. When he stood, however, he found himself stumbling. He felt so weak. Antonio was quick to grasp onto his arms to steady him.

"Lovi, let me help you," Antonio said softly, catching Lovino's gaze.

The Italian waved him away and grumbled out an incoherent response. He stumbled towards the door, and Antonio followed close at his heels. On his way, he tripped over something he had on the floor. It was probably the clothes he had thrown to the floor before bed. He fell into the doorframe. Antonio was quick to wrap his arms around Lovino's waist. The Italian didn't push him away. He didn't have the strength. He leaned against the doorframe and Antonio, his breath coming out heavy.

"Lovi, you're burning up," Antonio whispered. He brushed a few strands of sweat-soaked hair out of Lovino's face, staring at him with scared, green eyes.

Lovino's stomach dropped. Antonio was genuinely worried over his health. "We shouldn't go out in the cold ass rain next time..." he mumbled.

"I know. I'm sorry..."

"I'm hungry..." Lovino said softly after a moment. He didn't want Antonio to apologize He was already feeling guilty from earlier that night. Antonio didn't need to do all of this for him. "Can you make me some soup?"

Antonio nodded and offered Lovino a weak smile. He then picked Lovino up from the ground bridal style. Lovino nearly shrieked. He hadn't been expecting it. He didn't fight it, though. He leaned his head against his boyfriend's toned shoulder and smile. It wasn't a big smile; it was a small and soft, barely noticeable. He knew Antonio would notice. He may have been oblivious to everything else in his life, but he was seemed to catch Lovino's smiles.

Antonio carried him downstairs. It felt considerably cooler down there, but Lovino still felt as if he was on fire. With the little clothes he was wearing, it surprised him. He expected to be shivering right about then, having only been wearing his boxers the majority of the night. He really just wanted to go outside into the November air, but he knew Antonio would forbid it, claiming there were too many chances for him to catch pneumonia. There was no point in even trying to persuade him. It was entirely too frustrating that he was actually putting his foot down for once.

He was set down on the couch, and a blanket was draped over him. Antonio walked into the kitchen and Lovino saw a few candles flicker to life. The power was still out, and he was damned sure that it wouldn't be back until after the morning light came. The storm was a bad one. There'd surely be damages to be fixed the next day.

Lovino must have dozed off at some point, because Antonio was sitting beside him, a bowl of tomato soup in his hands.

Tomato.

Lovino could have cried. He very nearly did.

"I made it from scratch because that canned stuff is no good," Antonio said. "I hope you like it."

Lovino nodded and took a spoonful. God damn, it was good. He was happy he had set his claim over Antonio when he had. He had managed to steal the bastard's heart before one of the bitches from his ballet classes could turn him straight. Antonio not only had a fantastic ass, bu he was also an amazing cook. God, he loved that handsome bastard.


	17. Chapter 16: In a Fairytale

**A/N//: Dear readers. Yes. Here is another one of my notes. Okay. This is a great chapter. In my opinion at least. I hope you like it. Cause. Yeah. There is going to be an author's note at the end explaining why I did what I did in case that's not evident. I also do not own the following fairytale.**

**Chapter 16: In a Fairytale**

**Unknown Day, Unknown Month ??, ????**

**Dreamland**

Once upon a time in the middle of winter, when the flakes of snow were falling like feathers from the sky, a queen sat at a window sewing, and the frame of the window was made of black ebony. And whilst she was sewing and looking out of the window at the snow, she pricked her finger with the needle, and three drops of blood fell upon the snow. And the red looked pretty upon the white snow, and she thought to herself, would that I had a child as white as snow, with lips as red as blood, and hair as brown as the wood of the window-frame.

Soon after that she had a little son, who was as white as snow, his lips were as red as blood, and his hair was as brown as chocolate, and he was therefore called little Lovino.

After a year had passed the Queen took to herself another husband. He was a beautiful man, but proud and haughty, and he could not bear that anyone else should surpass him in beauty. He had a wonderful looking-glass, and when he stood in front of it and looked at himself in it, and said, "Magic mirror on the wall, who in this land is the fairest of all?"

The looking-glass answered, "Thou, o king, art the fairest of all."

Then he was satisfied, for he knew that the looking-glass spoke the truth.

But Lovino was growing up, and grew more and more beautiful, and when he was seven years old he was as beautiful as the day, and more beautiful than the king himself.

And once when the king asked her looking-glass, "Magic mirror, on the wall, who in this land is the fairest of all?"

It answered, "Thou art fairer than all who are here, sir king. But more beautiful still is Lovino, as I ween."

Then the king was shocked, and turned yellow and green with envy. From that hour, whenever he looked at Lovino, his heart heaved in his chest, he hated the boy so much. And envy and pride grew higher and higher in his heart like a weed, so that he had no peace day or night. He called a huntsman, and said, "Take the child away into the forest. I will no longer have him in my sight. Kill him, and bring me back his lung and liver as a token. "

The huntsman obeyed, and took him away but when he had drawn his knife, and was about to pierce Lovino's innocent heart, he began to weep, and said, "You potato bastard, just let me fucking live. I'm useless anyways. I'll probably just, like, get eaten by a bear or some shit. That bastard of a father of mine will never know!"

And as he was so beautiful the huntsman had pity on him and said, "Run away, then, you poor child." _The wild beasts will soon have devoured you,_  thought he, and yet it seemed as if a stone had been rolled from his heart since it was no longer needful for him to kill him. And as a young bear just then came running by he stabbed it, and cut out its lung and liver and took them to the king as proof that the child was dead. The cook had to salt them, and the wicked king ate them, and thought she had eaten the lung and liver of Lovino.

But now the poor child was all alone in the great forest, and so terrified that he looked at all the leaves on the trees, and did not know what to do. Then he began to run, and ran over sharp stones and through thorns, and the wild beasts ran past him, but did him no harm.

He ran as long as his feet would go until it was almost evening, then he saw a little cottage and went into it to rest himself. Everything in the cottage was small, but neater and cleaner than can be told. There was a table on which was a white cover, and seven little plates, and on each plate a little spoon, moreover, there were seven little knives and forks, and seven little mugs. Against the wall stood seven little beds side by side, and covered with snow-white counterpanes.

Little Lovino was so hungry and thirsty that he ate some vegetables and bread from each plate and drank a drop of wine out of each mug, for he did not wish to take all from one only. Then, as he was so tired, he laid himself down on one of the little beds, but none of them suited him, one was too long, another too short, but at last he found that the seventh one was right, and so he remained in it, said a prayer and went to sleep.

When it was quite dark the owners of the cottage came back. They were seven dwarfs who dug and delved in the mountains for ore. They lit their seven candles, and as it was now light within the cottage they saw that someone had been there, for everything was not in the same order in which they had left it.

The first asked, "who has been sitting on my chair?"

The second, "who has been eating off my plate?"

The third, "who has been taking some of my bread?"

The fourth, "who has been eating my vegetables?"

The fifth, "who has been using my fork?"

The sixth, "who has been cutting with my knife?"

The seventh, "who has been drinking out of my mug?"

Then the first looked round and saw that there was a little hollow on his bed, and he said, who has been getting into my bed. The others came up and each called out, somebody has been lying in my bed too. But the seventh when he looked at his bed saw little Lovino, who was lying asleep therein. And he called the others, who came running up, and they cried out with astonishment, and brought their seven little candles and let the light fall on little Lovino. Oh, heavens, oh, heavens, cried they, what a lovely child. And they were so glad that they did not wake him up, but let him sleep on in the bed. And the seventh dwarf slept with his companions, one hour with each, and so passed the night.

When it was morning little Lovino awoke, and was confused when he saw the seven dwarfs. But they were friendly and asked him what his name was.

"My name is Lovino," she answered. "What the fuck do you want?"

"How have you come to our house," said the dwarfs.

"My stepfather, the bastard that he was, tried to have a fucking huntsman kill me. So you know what I did? I fucking ran here. All day. Then I was fucking hungry. So you know what I did next? I fucking ate your food and used your shit. Then I slept in your beds. Do you think I give a fuck? No I do not."

The dwarfs said, "if you will take care of our house, cook, make the beds, wash, sew and knit, and if you will keep everything neat and clean you can stay with us and you shall want for nothing."

"What the fuck ever, bastards. I'll do all that shit. Just don't expect it to be done well."

And he stayed with them. She kept the house in order for them. In the mornings they went to the mountains and looked for copper and gold, in the evenings they came back, and then their supper had to be ready.

The boy was alone the whole day, so the good dwarfs warned him and said, "Beware of your step-father, he will soon know that you are here, be sure to let no one come in."

The king, at home, went in front of the glass and said, "Magic mirror, on the wall, who in this land is the fairest of all."

Then it answered as before. "O, king, thou art fairest of all I see, but over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell, Lovino is still alive and well, and none is so fair as he."

When he heard the glass speak thus he trembled and shook with rage. "Lovino shall die," he cried, "even if it costs me my life."

Thereupon he went into a quite secret, lonely room, where no one ever came, and there he made a very poisonous tomato. Outside it looked pretty, green with a red cheek, so that everyone who saw it longed for it, but whoever ate a piece of it must surely die.

When the apple was ready he painted his face, and dressed himself up as a farmer, and so he went over the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs. He knocked at the door.

Lovino put his head out of the window and said, "I can't let anyone in. Those seven bastards told me I couldn't, and they bring home the money to buy dinner, so I have to listen. Fuck off, bastard."

"It is all the same to me," answered the man, "I shall soon get rid of my tomatoes. There, I will give you one."

"No," said Lovino. "I don't want your fucking tomato. It probably has worms or some shit."

"Are you afraid of poison?" asked the old man, "look, I will cut the tomato in two pieces, you eat the red cheek, and I will eat the green."

The tomato was so cunningly made that only the red cheek was poisoned. Lovino longed for the fine tomato, and when he saw that the man ate part of it he could resist no longer, and stretched out his hand and took the poisonous half. But hardly had he a bit of it in his mouth than he fell down dead.

Then the king looked at him with a dreadful look, and laughed aloud and said, "white as snow, red as blood, brown as chocolate, this time the dwarfs cannot wake you up again."

And when he asked of the looking-glass at home, "Magic mirror, on the wall, who in this land is the fairest of all."

And it answered at last, "oh, king, in this land thou art fairest of all." Then his envious heart had rest, so far as an envious heart can have rest.

The dwarfs, when they came home in the evening, found Lovino lying upon the ground, he breathed no longer and was dead. They lifted him up, looked to see whether they could find anything poisonous, tugged his curl, washed him with water and wine, but it was all of no use, the poor child was dead, and remained dead. They laid him upon a bier, and all seven of them sat round it and wept for him, and wept three days long.

Then they were going to bury him, but he still looked as if he were living, and still had his pretty red cheeks.

They said, "we could not bury him in the dark ground."

And they had a transparent coffin of glass made, so that he could be seen from all sides, and they laid him in it, and wrote his name upon it in golden letters, and that he was a queen's son. Then they put the coffin out upon the mountain, and one of them always stayed by it and watched it. And birds came too, and wept for Lovino, first an owl, then a raven, and last a dove.

And now Lovino lay a long, long time in the coffin, and he did not change, but looked as if he were asleep, for he was as white as snow, as red as blood, and his hair was as brown as chocolate.

It happened, however, that a king's son came into the forest, and went to the dwarfs, house to spend the night. He saw the coffin on the mountain, and the beautiful Lovino within it, and read what was written upon it in golden letters.

Then he said to the dwarfs, "Let me have the coffin, I will give you whatever you want for it."

But the dwarfs answered, "we will not part with it for all the gold in the world."

Then he said, "Let me have it as a gift, for I cannot live without seeing my precious Lovi. I will honor and prize him as my dearest possession. He is mi corazón."

As he spoke in this way the good dwarfs took pity upon him, and gave him the coffin.

And now the king's son had it carried away by his servants on their shoulders. And it happened that they stumbled over a tree-stump, and with the shock the poisonous piece of apple which Lovino had bitten off came out of his throat. And before long he opened his eyes, lifted up the lid of the coffin, sat up, and was once more alive.

"Bastard, where the fuck am I? Who the fuck are you? You're a fucking rapist, kidnapping me in a glass fucking coffin! Pervert!" he cried.

The king's son, full of joy, said, "You are with me, Prince Antonio Fernandez Carriedo." And told him what had happened, and said, "I love you more than everything in the world, mi corazón, come with me to my father's palace, you shall be my husband."

"What the fuck ever, pervert."

And Lovino was somewhat willing, and went with him, and their wedding was held with great show and splendor. But Lovino's wicked step-father was also bidden to the feast.

When he had arrayed himself in beautiful clothes he went before the looking-glass, and said, "Magic mirror, on the wall, who in this land is the fairest of all."

The glass answered, "O, king, of all here the fairest art thou, but the young king is fairer by far as I trow."

Then the wicked man uttered a curse, and was so wretched, so utterly wretched that he knew not what to do. At first he would not go to the wedding at all, but he had no peace, and had to go to see the young king. And when he went in he recognized Lovino, and he stood still with rage and fear, and could not stir. But iron slippers had already been put upon the fire, and they were brought in with tongs, and set before him. Then he was forced to put on the red-hot shoes, and dance until he dropped down dead.

Lovino suddenly woke from his dream. Snowwhite. Yeah. Fuck that shit. He was never going to read the Grimm's Fairy Tales before bed ever again.

**A/N//: Yes. I literally just took Snow-White practically verbatim. Yes. I'm lazy. But I thought it would be freakin' perfect. I was originally trying to use the Italian version titled _{Bella Venezia}_ , but yea, the rights are impossible to find. So are PDFs. So. Yeah. I wrote it so where only the speech for Antonio and Lovino are changed. I hope you liked it. The evil Step Father would have been Francis. Huntsman would be Gilbert. I know you probably thought Luddy, but ya know. Keeping the BTT in place <3 Thanks for reading.**


	18. Chapter 17: Patching Each Other's Wounds

**Chapter 17: Patching Each Other's Wounds**

**Saturday, January 16, 2016**

Antonio walked down the path to the little house he and Lovino shared, pure dread washing over his face. It had been a long practice. Ballet had killed him today. He wasn't prepared for it. Those girls who danced en pointe everyday... He wasn't sure how they did it. He had only participated in one eight hour class so far, but God, he was tired and sore. Those girls who practiced everyday... They were strong, stronger than any man he had ever met.

Antonio pushed the front door open slowly and stepped into the foyer. He slammed the door shut and leaned against the wood for a moment. His satin pointe shoes slipped from his aching fingers that had been curled around the bar for the majority of the day onto the hardwood floor in a heap. The pink satin was stained a reddish-brown color. In his first day of pointe, he had bled. An eight-hour practice had left his feet marred and blistered.

He shrugged out of his winter coat and hung it on the hook beside the door. The t-shirt he wore beneath was soaked in sweat. He pulled that off, too, and tossed it to the floor. He then, slowly, pulled his right foot out of his tattered and stained, light blue van. He sucked back a gasp of pain and allowed himself a glance south. It was a grotesque sight, his cut and blistered toes. He'd have trouble walking for days... And he thought his callouses were strong. God, he was wrong.

Antonio heard footsteps approaching from the kitchen. Lovino was home. It was a Saturday. He'd been hoping that he'd gone home to visit his brother. He had hoped Feliciano would at least come here to visit. He didn't want Lovino to see him like this. He had too much to worry about, and Antonio's injuries was not one of them. The Spaniard looked up at the Italian that had entered the room with a tired expression

Lovino dropped the towel he had been holding, his mouth agape. That wasn't a good sign. "Toni? What happened to your feet? Please tell me you didn't go kicking walls with the older Potato Bastard and the Wine Bastard."

Antonio shrugged and slipped off his other shoe. His left foot was just as bad as the right if not worse.

"Antonio Fernandez Carriedo," Lovino snapped. The Spaniard flinched. He was unused to his boyfriend using his full name. It reminded him vaguely of his grandmother. "What the fuck happened to your God damned feet?"

"I took a bet with some of the girls in ballet..." he mumbled.

"Idioti..." Lovino hissed. He then gestured towards the staircase. "Bathroom, upstairs, now."

Antonio opened his mouth to protest, but a cold look from the shorter Italian shut him up. Slowly and gingerly, he started towards the upstairs bathroom. God, he was tired. His legs were sore and aching. They protested every step he took. He wanted to lie down and sleep, but he knew Lovino wouldn't have it. Once he made it upstairs, he opened the bathroom door and sat down on the toilet. Lovino walked in a few moments later and started up the water in the bathtub. He then dug into the medicine cabinet. Antonio watched him with a pout on his face. He knew Lovino was going to turn all maternal. This wasn't the first time he had. There was no point in trying to stop him.

"Tell me about this bet," Lovino said, his back towards Antonio as he dug through the cabinet.

Antonio sighed. He knew it was stupid to agree, but he had wanted to try. "The girls in ballet have their Saturday point class from eight a.m. until closer to now, four p.m.," he said. "I wanted to join it, but hey wouldn't let me unless I won this bet. They said that if I could survive a full class, I could join for good. Well, they said they'd consider it."

"And if you couldn't survive the class?"

"It doesn't matter..." Antonio mumbled.

"There are two sides to a bet. What did you put on the table, idiot?"

Antonio rubbed his face with his hands and looked at Lovino who was also staring him down. He shuddered and nodded. "They wanted us to make a sex tape."

Lovino's body stiffened and he turned back towards the medicine cabinet. Antonio knew then that he'd fucked up. "So, no sex until your birthday."

Antonio groaned. That was less than a month away, but it was a cruel punishment he probably deserved. He was too tired to try and protest anyways. He knew Lovino would just extend that time until he felt Antonio had suffered enough, anyways.

"Put your feet in the tub," Lovino snapped. "Now."

Antonio obliged and carefully slid off the toilet onto the ledge of the tub. He first rolled up his jeans to his midcalf. He then peeled back his stained pink and red tights. Those were going to be ruined if he didn't get peroxide on them before the end of the night. He'd wash them eventually... Slowly he placed his feet into the hot water. It burned his marred skin, but he said nothing. He figured Lovino would curse him out if he made even the slightest protest. He was actually sure of it. He closed his green eyes and sighed once again.

"Don't do stupid shit like that again, bastard. You scared the hell out of me."

"Lo Siento, Lovino," Antonio mumbled.

God, he was tired. He just wanted to sleep, but the Italian nearby wasn't going to allow it until he was done with his mending.

"Give me your right foot," Lovino demanded.

Slowly Antonio lifted his foot from the water. He hissed out a breath, his fingernails digging into his palms. It was strange how some of the smallest of cuts and blisters caused the most pain. He loathed the fact. The Spaniard kept his gaze directed towards Lovino's features. He didn't want to watch his expert hands patch his wounds. He'd rather watch the complex emotions of explicit determination read across his facial features. Once or twice Lovino looked up with a worried expression on his delicate face, but a soft smile from Antonio seemed to calm him at least a little bit. He continued to dab away at the blood until both of his feet looked a bit better.

Then he pulled a bottle from the first aid kit that Antonio would have rather not seen.

Antiseptic spray.

"Ah... Lovino, you really don't have to do that, mi corazón," Antonio said with the most charming smile he could muster.

"Shut the fuck up, bastard. Quit being a fucking baby."

"But, Lovi-"

"Shut up."

Without a second thought, it seemed, Lovino sprayed. Antonio gritted his teeth in pain. Maternal Lovino was even more ruthless than normal, pissed off Lovino. Antonio said nothing, for the fear of angering the Italian weighed heavily on his shoulders. Not long after, Lovino patched the worst of the cuts and blisters in white gauze and tape. He then looked Antonio straight in the eye. Chills ran down Antonio's spine.

There was always something that he felt when he looked Lovino directly in the eye. H alway saw his boyfriend's determination. His doubts, fears, everything. Even now he saw it dancing across his amber eyes. But he felt something. He felt a magnetic pull towards the introverted Italian that he had grown to love. He knew just by his gaze that he'd never be able to pull himself away from him. He loved him far too much.

"Don't ever do something stupid like that ever again. I won't be there to patch you up every time."

Despite those words, each time Antonio came home weary, blistered, and bloody from pointe and ballet, Lovino mended his every wound, although he did keep his word on one other matter.

They did not have sex again until Antonio's birthday.


	19. Chapter 18: Birthdays

**Chapter 18: Birthdays**

**Thursday, March 17, 2016**

Lovino scowled at the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He sat on the couch fuming and pissed off. God, he wanted to kill that Spaniard. But, God, at the same time, he really just wanted to kiss his face off. But he really did want to kill him. He wasn't really sure of anything at this point.

His little house was beyond filled with people. He had tried to forget why they were there. He was trying to get it through his very muddled mind that he actually had friends. Yes, had had friends, and they were there for him. Well, Alfred probably thought this was a St. Patrick's Day party, but still. Most everyone was there for him. And his little brother. Or maybe the free alcohol. Who knew? He sure as hell didn't.

Italian music blasted through the speakers that had been placed throughout the house. It was the stuff he found amazing to dance to. God, Lovino couldn't remember the last time he had danced. He was never one to dance unless he was really fuckin' drunk.

And he was really fuckin' drunk.

It was his twenty-first birthday, and Antonio had planned a surprise party for him. Well him and Nonno. Feliciano had come into town, and they had spent the day together. They had planned the party when they were out without him knowing. It was strange that he hadn't found out. Hell, everything that was going on, he had forgotten the birthday that he and Feliciano shared despite the two-year gap in the ages. Yes, it was typical of him, so he hadn't expected to come home to a house of people that Thursday. Neither had Feliciano. He hadn't expected to see Nonno in his living room along with the blond Potato Bastard. His surprise had turned into anger towards Antonio, but that hadn't lasted long at all. A full glass of wine had been handed to him. And then three more. It was good, expensive Italian wine that Grandpa had brought. It wasn't the shit that Francis claimed was so amazing. No. It was the good shit, and four glasses had him thoroughly drunk.

Drunk enough to where when the Italian music started playing, he pounced from his spot on the couch onto the table that had been dragged into the living room. He wasn't singing on a platform to the room. No. He was fuckin' dancing his Italian ass off. Antonio may have been the king of ass, but God, he was good at shaking it to the music. Yes, Antonio could prance around to that classical shit, but the way Lovino moved his body to the blasting Italian music couldn't be matched by anyone outside of his family. He moved easily, his bare feet sliding gracefully across the table. He hadn't spilled a drop of his wine. But maybe he drank it all before he got onto the table. He couldn't quite remember. He didn't care. Hell, if Antonio could shake his ass when he walked, then he could do it on a table.

He could have sworn he heard Gilbert yelling about how he was "totally beating Toni's pole dancing on Halloween."

When had that tomato bastard pole danced? Lovino spun to face Gilbert and very nearly fell off the table.

"That bastard was pole dancing, and I didn't get to see? Like, what the actual fuck?" he asked, popping his hip and resting his hand there.

"Lovi, baby, that was on Halloween!" Antonio said, putting his hands up in mock surrender.

Lovino scowled and slowly began swaying his hips to the music again. "Why didn't I get to see?"

"You were locked in a closet."

"Oh yeah."

"Lovino, baby, please get off the table before you fall," Antonio cooed, holding out his hands as an offer to the Italian.

"Fuck off, Toni! You are just jealous that I can shake ass better than you can!" Lovino shouted. Then he stepped too far and stumbled. Hell, he very nearly fell to the ground, but Antonio managed to catch him before he fell.

"Baby, you need to go lie down. You're drunk," Antonio cooed.

"No! You just want me to stop showing off!" Lovino yelled. He went to take a sip from his glass, but he found that it disappeared into Antonio's hand.

"Lovi, you know I can beat you any day, right?" Antonio challenge.

That bastard was really cocksure of himself. God, it was fuckin' infuriating. Yeah, he was a fuckin' dance major and everything, but that didn't mean jack shit. Lovino could totally dance better than him. Or so he thought.

Antonio slipped behind Lovino and pulled his hips close to his own. Slowly he gyrated his hips against Lovino's. The Italian's cheeks flared slightly, but he danced against Antonio. They moved in perfect synchronicity with each other. From not far away, he heard cat calls from Gilbert. That stupid albino potato bastard. He couldn't do this if he wanted to.

And then all of a sudden Antonio was leaving. He was walking away, a smile on his lips. That bastard was just leaving him! And he was taking his wine glass with him. Before he left, however, he could have sworn he heard the bastard say something.

"You'll never be able to beat me, baby, trust me."

~Some hours later~

Lovino stood on his table once again. Feliciano stood beside him. They were both thoroughly drunk, rambling off in Italian and singing along to the music. Why Nonno had let them get this drunk was beyond Lovino. He couldn't really tell, but all that matter was the full glass of wine in his hand and his brother at his side.

"Hey, Bastards! Everyone! Listen the fuck up!" Lovino yelled over the music. Eyes turned towards him, but he didn't give a fuck. He took a quick swig of his wine and offered a cheeky smile. "I'd like to propose a toast to the Bastard that made this all possible!"

Lovino scanned the crowd of people for Antonio, but he didn't see him. He shrugged. If the Tomato Bastard missed this toast, it was on him. Lovino wrapped his spare arm around Feliciano's shoulders and took another swig of wine. He really had to pee, but he could hold it off until he got done with his speech. What was he giving it on again? Oh yeah, Antonio.

"I'd like to dedicate this... Speech to my fuckin' bastard of a boyfriend-" Lovino paused to hiccup. "Toni! Where the fuck are you? You can't just let me give a speech about you and not listen to it. It's fuckin' rude bastard. I know your mother taught you fuckin' manners. I met her and shit."

Antonio stepped to the front of the crowd just in front of the table he and Feliciano were standing on. Wait? Where had Feliciano gone? He could have sworn that he was right there a second ago... He saw the blond Potato Bastard carrying him away. Well, fuck. Who needed him anyways?

"Oh, yeah. This toast. Well. I'd like to thank that bastard with the curly hair right in front of me for making this like the best fuckin' birthday ever! I'd also like to thank all of you assholes for coming. 'Cause I don't think I have that many friends, so I guess you guys can be my friends. But if you touch my fuckin' wine or his beautiful Spanish ass, I'll fuckin'. I don't know. I'll sic my GTA mafia on your asses or some shit. I don't know..." he mumbled. And then he felt it. It was coming too quickly. "But uh. Yeah. Bye."

Lovino hopped down from the table, handed off his glass to Antonio, and bolted. No. No. No. Not in front of people. His stomach best not fail him. He heard footsteps following behind him. He assumed it was Antonio. Lovino hardly made it to the bathroom before he managed to vomit in the toilet. God, the world was spinning. He felt like shit in a matter of seconds.

"Lovi, hun, are you okay?" Antonio asked, peeking his head into the bathroom.

"I think I need to lie down now. The world is spinning Toni."

Antonio set Lovino's glass of wine down on the counter in the bathroom. He didn't even want to see it. God, his stomach was turning. Lovino wiped his mouth on his sleeve and groaned. He held out his arms to Antonio.

"Toni...?"

"Yes, Lovino?"

"Can you carry me and put me to bed?" he mumbled. God, he could feel the throbbing in his skull. How did drinking always reduce him to this pitiful state? Now he remembered why he avoided doing it in excess.

"Yes, Lovi," Antonio said. He picked Lovino up into his arms. The Italian laid his head on his boyfriend's shoulder and let out another groan. He was going to regret his life in the morning.

"Don't tell anyone about this, okay?"

"I wouldn't dream of it, mi corazón."


	20. Chapter 19: Grumpy Morning Heads

**Chapter 19: Grumpy Morning Heads**

**Friday, March 18, 2016**

He had forgotten the two most crucial things after a night of heavy drinking to avoid a hangover. He had forgotten the aspirin and water. Antonio had laid them out on his bedside table, too. He had told Lovino to make sure he took them before bed. But he hadn’t. Antonio had only been gone for a short while to help Nonno say goodbye to their guests, but that short bit of silence was all he needed. By the time Antonio had come back to remind him, Lovino had already passed out. The bastard knew not to wake him, especially when he was drunk, but now he wished he had.

God, he was fuckin’ hungover.

And Antonio wasn’t in bed with him either. Lovino stretched out his fingers to look for the bastard, but his side of the bed was empty and cold. He couldn’t nudge the bastard awake to make him get the aspirin. Nope. He’d have to deal with his hangover because there was no way in hell that he was going to get up and get that shit off of the table by himself. Fuck that. He was too lazy for that shit.

He heard the bedroom door creak open and he buried his head under the blankets. Knowing his family, he had no trust for keeping his head in the light. Footsteps crossed the room and threw open the curtains. Even though Lovino had the blanket covering his eyes, the blinding morning light burned. He could felt it burning his soul.

“If you don’t shut those god damned curtains right fucking now, I’ll fucking kill you, Toni.”

“Goodmorning Lovino!” Antonio practically sang. It was just a little too loud. It sent Lovino’s head reeling. “It’s time to get up!”

“Bastard, I’ve got a mother fucking hangover. Quit being so loud. Actually. Shut the fuck up and get the hell out.”

This time the Spaniard spoke softer. “Lovi, baby, it’s already noon. You’ve slept through your morning classes already.”

Lovino promptly lifted his hand from beneath his blanket and flipped Antonio off. He’d sleep all day if he wanted to.

“Come get some food. You’re hungry, no?”

As if on cue, the Italian’s stomach began to growl. Yes, he was hungry, but he wasn’t going to tell the bastard that. He could probably hear his stomach anyways.

“There’s water and aspirin on the table,” Antonio said. Lovino heard him walk back towards the door. “Your grandfather and brother are downstairs. Come join us for brunch.”

Lovino grumbled out a response and flipped the bird once more. And then he heard Antonio start down the stairs. He groaned softly and rolled onto his back. He opened his eyes. The light hit him like a hammer to his head. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. There was no way in hell that he wanted to get up, but he’d rather not have his grandfather come upstairs. Nonno would undoubtedly come up with a cold pitcher of water. And that pitcher would undoubtedly end up all over him as well as Antonio’s bed. He didn’t need that. That’d just put him in an even sourer of a mood. Nonno wouldn’t take a hangover for an excuse. He had had many of them in his lifetime, and he’d only tell Lovino to suck it up. He’d probably chastise him for drinking too much.

Slowly, Lovino sat up in bed. He reached onto the bedside table and took the aspirin and water into his hand. He took the pill and down the glass of water. He then took Antonio’s king sized comforter and wrapped it around himself. He started down the stairs slowly, making some attempt to ignore the throbbing in his skull. From the stairs, he could already hear the boisterous laughs of all three men in his kitchen. He slowly brought himself to the room.

“Ah! He wakes!” Grandpa Roma exclaimed. He was too loud too. “Good morning, Lovino!”

Lovino grumbled out a garbled complaint about the noise, and then said, “Buongiorno.”

Feliciano, like the little sneaky devil he often was, was across the room wrapping his arms around him a matter of seconds. Lovino grumbled out a few curses at him and sat down at the kitchen table. He folded his legs under himself and laid his face on the table. He didn’t want to talk. He was gracing his family with his presence. That had to be enough.

“Lovino. Where are you damn manners? Pick your head up off of the damned table,” Nonno chastised.

Lovino slowly lifted his head and came face to face with someone he had no desire to see. “What the fuck is the potato bastard here? Doesn’t he have a brother he can room with?” Lovino snapped, his brow wrinkled in frustration. Ludwig blushed in embarrassment.

Almost immediately, Lovino received a cuff over the head. He grabbed at the back of his skull with both of his hands, doubling over in pain.

“What the fuck Grandpa? My head is already going to fucking explode!”

“Leave Ludwig alone. He is a guest in your house. You don’t hear him saying anything mean to you or Antonio. Be nice,” Augustus chastised.

He shot his grandfather a dirty look which prompted him to receive another smack to the head. Lovino whimpered in pain and rested his throbbed head on the table.

“Watch your manners, young man,” his grandfather said. “I know I raised you better. Such a child when you’re tired and hungover. Don’t make me take away your drinking privileges.”

The way his grandfather acted. He still held the power in their family. He was the eldest. No one surpassed him. When Augustus sent him a look, Lovino felt the fear of God wash over him. He didn’t want to cross him. He didn’t want to lose his drinking privileges either.

“Sorry, Nonno,” Lovino muttered. He wanted the throbbing to stop, but he probably deserved the smacks.

He then felt Antonio’s arms circled around his waist. The Spaniard softly whispered in his ear. “You want you coffee with three spoons of sugar and three spoons of cream, no?” he asked.

Lovino nodded shortly.

“Bacon and eggs sunny side up, sí?”

Lovino nodded again. “Can you put whipped cream in my coffee?”

“Si.”

“With sprinkles?”

Antonio chuckled lightly. “Si.”

“And a straw?”

“Si, mi corazón,” Antonio whispered as he kissed the back of Lovino’s neck. He then stepped away to go make his breakfast.

This is why Lovino loved that stupid bastard. He understood everything about Lovino which sometimes he found hard to comprehend. How could anyone of figured out the complicated mess that was him so flawlessly? But that was the mystery that was Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. He had the ability to see into one’s soul.

“Lovi? Can we go around town? Get lunch? All five of us? It’ll be great! Please? We can get pasta! And we can get bread! And pasta! And cheese!” Feliciano asked, his loud, happy voice cutting through Lovino’s thoughts. How the kid wasn’t hungover after the night before, he had no idea.

“Fine. Sure. Just be quiet Feli.”

This was his family. He had his stern, but loving grandfather. He had his loud, always happy little brother and his scary, quiet boyfriend. And then he had Antonio. His beloved Antonio. That tomato bastard was his world. And that’s when he came to his final conclusion. Assuming that the potato bastard stuck around, maybe his family in the distant future wouldn’t too terrible after all.


End file.
